Clutch
by Sunshine1220
Summary: The Devil's Outcasts MC and their families are no stranger to conflict and violence. Their lives have been full of both. History has taught them that family and the club are the only things they can really count on. Relationships and loyalties can change, though. Shifting gears is never easy, but when you do, don't forget to pull the clutch.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, you lovely people! I'm incredibly excited about this new story! I know I talked about continuing What She Needs after I wrapped DoMH, but this one creeped up behind me and hit me like a sledgehammer. It would NOT sit in the corner and wait its turn. WSN is still on my radar, and I'm hoping to be able to work on both this and that at the same time ... just as soon as I get all my ducks in the same room. I've long since given up getting them in a row.**

**oOOo**

*****PLEASE*** take the time to read the ending A/N. This one will not be for everyone. It's heavily inspired by Sons of Anarchy, so if that wasn't your cup of tea, this probably won't be, either. Please know this will be heavy on the drama, heavy on the angst, and it will definitely be a slow burn.**

**oOOo**

**I'm excited to say I've started a YouTube playlist for this fic. I'll add to it as I post each chapter, but feel free to peruse if you're interested. You can search for me, Sunshine1220 and my Clutch playlist, but as of now, my name isn't showing up in YouTube's search. But you can find it at ...**

**youtube. com (forward slash) playlist?list= PL- lT886J9KPpLFc5zfKRgGqHgc2plO9RN ... Don't forget to remove the spaces and extras. **

**oOOo**

**First, I've had a ton of help from several lovely ladies. BitterHarpy's input has been invaluable with some of the lesser known parts of the MC world. I can say with confidence that this story would not be what I hope it is without her help. I'm also lucky enough to have help from 2brown-eyes, bbmassey88, and ceceprincess1217 with prereading. And a huge thank you to my beta, jayhawkbb. Please remember, all mistakes are mine.**

**oOOo**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. I do not own Sons of Anarchy, even though I wouldn't mind having my own Jax Teller. ;) I do, however, own this story. No copyright infringement intended.**

* * *

**Clutch**

**Chapter 1**

**Songs:**

**Never Wrong, Disturbed  
****Someday, Nickelback**

* * *

**Bella**

I wrap the plastic stick in about seven layers of toilet paper, hoping the weird shape in the wastebasket doesn't get my husband's attention. I'm not quite ready to share this particular news with him just yet.

It's the very last thing we need right now.

I stuff the wad into the bottom of the bin, along with the torn remnants of the box, and shove the whole thing back under the sink. The hallway is quiet when I nudge the door open, telling me Sam is outside playing, Masen is outside tinkering with one of the bikes—hopefully, watching his son—and Carmen has yet to emerge from her bedroom at the other end of the trailer.

My upset stomach won't tolerate more than dry toast, and as I wait for the slices to brown, I wash the cereal bowls Masen and Sam left in the sink. As I nibble on my meager breakfast, I boil some water and rummage through the cabinets, looking for the boxes of strawberry Jell-O I bought for Poppa C's birthday cookout. Mixed with a bag of marshmallows, a handful of nuts, and some frozen berries, the Jell-O is a passable covered dish to take along to the in-law's tonight.

As I wash the few dishes I dirtied, the snap of the screen door echoes through the front room and is followed by quick, light footsteps.

"Samuel Masen Cullen, if you don't get your ass back here, you're gonna get it double, son!" Masen's own heavy footsteps stomp down the hallway toward Sam's room, followed by the slam of a bedroom door. I sigh and hang my head, leaning against the edge of the sink.

"What's that boy of yours done now?" Carmen's raspy voice grows louder as she rounds the corner into the tiny kitchen.

I grab the dishtowel off the oven handle to dry my hands. "I have no idea. You'd have to ask Masen." I turn around, tossing the towel down and crossing my arms over my chest before leaning against the counter. I watch as my husband's grandmother lowers herself into a chair at the table, reaching for an ever-present pack of Marlboro Lights. She flicks her trusty Bic lighter and inhales.

"Carmen, I've asked you time and time again not to smoke in the house."

She exhales, narrowing her eyes at me. "And I've told _you_ time and time again, this is my goddamn house. I'll smoke in here if I damn well feel like it."

"And when your great-grandson has an asthma attack?" I grit my teeth and try to keep it civil, but with Carmen, I usually can't hold my tongue.

She shrugs her shoulders as she flicks the ash from her cigarette into an empty soda can. "That's what his inhaler is for, right?"

I take a deep breath, attempting to keep my temper from rearing its ugly head. "Sure, Carmen. And we might as well put that expensive nebulizer to good use, too, right?" I push off the counter and make my way through the kitchen and living room, toward the two smaller bedrooms at the other end of the trailer.

I hear him before I see him. Sam's hiccupping cries and stuttered breaths hurry my feet along. As I open the door to his room, I see Masen towering over his son, his hands on his hips, and even I'm intimidated. And I'm not a six-year-old boy.

"What is going on in here?"

Sam rushes toward me and wraps his arms around my waist, burying his sniffling face in my stomach.

Masen crosses his tattooed arms over his chest and stares down at me. "He was playing with one of those Tanner shits from next door, and one of them swung a bat at my bike!" His voice raises with each syllable.

I run a hand over Sam's head, trying to calm him down. I know if I don't get his crying under control soon, it'll turn into an asthma attack. I tilt Sam's chin up and look down into his big, brown eyes. "Baby, I need you to calm down, okay? You'll make yourself sick if you keep crying like this."

"Yeah, that'll work, Bella. Keep babying him." Masen takes a step closer to us, and Sam squeezes me tighter. "He needs to learn there are consequences for the shit he's always doin'!"

I hold one hand across Sam's shoulders and the other holds his head to my stomach, covering his ears. I lower my voice, nearly growling at my husband. "He's six fucking years old, Mase!"

"There still needs to be—"

"Consequences, yes, I know. But scaring the shit out of my son is not the way to handle it!"

"Your son," he says, throwing his hands up in the air, his chuckle deep and anything but amused. "Sure, Bella"—he takes two steps backward toward the door—"your son. I'm just his goddamn father." He turns on his heel. "Fuck this. I'm out. See ya at Pop's tonight," he yells over his shoulder as he stomps down the hallway and out the front door. The unmistakable rumble of his Harley can be heard moments before he rolls the throttle and tears out of the carport.

"I'm sorry, Mommy." Sam's tiny voice is muffled against the cotton of my tank top. He looks up at me, and the sadness in his eyes nearly breaks my heart. "I didn't mean to get so close to Daddy's bike. It was an accident." In no time at all, he's crying again, holding on to me like his life depends on it.

"Shh. Hey, it's gonna be okay." I shuffle us toward his bed, settling on the edge and pulling him onto my lap. I brush his too-long, dark brown hair from his eyes. "There you are," I tease, smiling down at him.

The tears stop falling and he cocks a small grin, looking so much like his father in that moment. But his smile quickly falls. "Daddy is really mad at me, ain't he?"

I take a deep breath and do my best not to do the one thing Masen has asked me repeatedly to stop: Baby Sam. "Yeah, Sammy, your dad is really upset. You know better than to play around the bikes. What were you thinking, huh?" I wipe the tears from his cheeks and run my hand over his head, smoothing his wild hair.

He looks down at his tiny fingers twisted in the hem of my shirt. "I was running to catch the ball Matty threw before it hit something. I bent down to reach it, and the end of my bat hit Daddy's tire."

My hand stills. "The tire?"

He nods and looks up at me. "I'm really sorry, Mommy. I'll be careful next time. I won't go nowhere near the bikes, I promise. Do you think Daddy will still be mad at me when we go to Poppa C's later?"

I smile down at him. His wide-eyed, hopeful expression makes me give an answer I can only hope is true. "No, baby, I'm sure he won't still be mad at you."

He pops off my lap and runs toward the door. "I'm gonna go put all my toys away so we can go there faster!"

As the sound of his footfalls grow distant and the screen door snaps closed, I tilt my head back and close my eyes. To say I'm mad at Masen would be putting it beyond mildly. He freaked out over our son hitting the _tire_ of his precious motorcycle. Not a fender or the tank, but the fucking tire.

"He's right, you know."

I exhale and breathe deeply, willing calm to fill me before opening my eyes. When I do, they meet those of the woman who has hated me since I entered her life close to ten years ago. That hate has only grown since I married her grandson almost seven years ago. "How exactly is he right this time, Carmen?"

"You baby that boy too much."

I rise from Sam's bed and step toward the door with no intention of stopping, even if it means I'll have to shoulder check the old biddy. "Don't worry, Carmen. When I need parenting advice, I won't be bothering you for it. I'll be sure to ask someone who's done it successfully"—I turn to meet her eyes as I pass—"at least once."

* * *

"Do you think Poppa C will have his pool open today? We didn't get to swim last time we were here."

I shift the car into park and cut the engine, the southern Arizona heat instantly warming the interior of my hatchback. I meet Sammy's eyes in the rearview mirror. "I can almost guarantee they have the pool open." I reach over to the passenger seat and grab the strap of the open tote there, raising it enough for my son to see its contents. "Why else would I have brought all your swim stuff, kiddo?"

He squeals in response and wiggles in his booster seat, reaching for the seatbelt. I slip out of the car and open the back door, releasing my son from his temporary prison. He squeezes past me and runs toward the door. I laugh, watching him dodge one outstretched hand after another attempt to slow him down.

I turn back to the car, gathering all the crap that seems to go everywhere with us, along with what's required to spend an evening at Casa de Cullen. I walk around to the front passenger door and open it, pulling the tote and giant bowl of Jell-O from the front seat. Reaching down for a dropped floatie, I'm head down and ass up when the familiar, deep chuckle of exes past sounds from behind me.

"He's a quick, little guy, ain't he?"

I take a deep breath, steeling myself like I always do when I have to see my brother-in-law. I grab what's left of the shit from the seat and straighten up, using my hip to close the door.

"Hey, Edward," I say softly, looking up at him with a polite smile on my face. It never fails to amaze me just how beautiful he is, how he affects me … even after all these years. "And yeah, I'm pretty sure he gets that from your brother."

"Yeah, you're probably right. Mase always was a wiry, little fucker," he says with a grin. Realizing how much I have piled in my arms, he reaches for some of it. "Here, let me help." Without asking, he grabs everything I'm carrying, other than my purse and the lidded, lime green Tupperware bowl in my arms, even with the rim of a beer bottle held in his long fingers.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

We walk side by side toward the door, and I greet the few people milling around out front. Stepping through the front door is like stepping through a time machine for me. Between sleepovers with Alice and, eventually, secret sleepovers with her brother, I spent a good part of my childhood here.

We reach the kitchen, which is blessedly empty at the moment, and I open the fridge to stow away my contribution to the cookout. I look out the window over the sink and into the backyard, searching for my husband.

"He's not here yet," Edward says from behind me.

I turn to look over my shoulder. "I was just making sure Sammy found Pop." I turn around and lean against the counter. "He was excited to swim today."

Judging by the look on his face, Edward isn't buying the shit I'm feeding him.

"What happened this time?"

I push off the counter and rifle through my bag to keep my hands busy. "What do you mean? Nothing happened."

He walks closer and places a hand over mine. "One, you're a shit liar, and two, you guys always come together to these things." He nudges my chin until I meet his eyes. "What's goin' on, Bella?"

"Nothing," I say, shaking my head and stepping out of his reach. "We just had a little disagreement this morning, that's all. He got upset and left." I shrug my shoulders. "Same shit, different day, I guess."

His lips form a thin line, and he exhales heavily through his nose. "How long ago did he take off?"

I stare down at my hands as they lay listlessly on the countertop. Just like everything else about me, my thin gold wedding band doesn't even make the effort to shine anymore.

"It was around ten or eleven." I look up and meet the green eyes that still haunt my what-if dreams. "He just needed a breather," I say weakly.

Before Edward can form a reply, Esme waltzes into her kitchen. When she spots me standing across from her son, her smile falls just enough to remind me I'm no longer as welcome in her home as I once was.

"Isabella, how nice to see you. I'm sure Carlisle will be happy you're here." She looks past Edward and back to me. "Is Masen here?"

I clear my throat. "No, he had an errand to run. He'll be here soon, though."

"Hey, Ma," Edward interrupts. "I need to run out myself for a few." He takes a few steps toward his mother and kisses her on the cheek. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Out of pure instinct, I yell out the same words I do any time one of the club members is about to ride away. "Be safe!"

Turned around, walking backwards toward the door, Edward gives me the same smirk he's given me since I was fifteen. "Always am." He turns back and saunters through the front door, leaving me alone with his mother.

Esme turns to me, a forced smile in place. "Why don't we join everyone out back, hmm?"

I nod and head toward the sliding glass patio door, Esme trailing right behind me. The party is in full swing, and Sammy's already in the pool, Underoo-clad and safely in the arms of his grandfather. Seeing Carlisle out of his cut, bare-chested with his tattoos on full display as he wades through the shallow water makes me smile. Sammy is one of the few people Carlisle Cullen, president of the Devil's Outcasts MC, can't say no to.

Other than a few of the kids here today, most everyone is crowded around the glass-topped tables and the grill, beers and mixed drinks in hand. It's strange to see all of the club members in one place and out of their cuts. I'm so used to seeing them at the garage, outside the clubhouse, or waiting at the end of my driveway for Masen wearing them, it's almost jarring to see them any other way.

I'm greeted by familiar faces, but still settle into a chair on the edge of the patio, nearest the pool and away from most of the group. Watching over my son in the water is just an excuse to stick to myself today. I'm not really in the mood to socialize.

The grinding of a shoe against the pavers sounds behind me, and I turn to watch as Rosalie snuffs out what's left of her cigarette.

"He's getting so big," she says as she settles into the chair beside me. Even at a backyard barbecue, she looks flawless. Her perfectly styled hair and impeccable makeup seem out of place at such an informal gathering, but I wouldn't expect anything less than that from her.

"He is," I say with a smile as I look over at her. Her movie star sunglasses cover her violet eyes as they watch the kids play in the water.

"You guys ever think about having another one?" She finally turns to me.

I shake my head, denying the tiny voice in my head. "No, I don't think it's the right time for us to have another."

"Things still tight? Did that asshole manager of yours ever give you the extra hours you asked for?"

I laugh, thinking of my idiot douchebag boss, Mike Newton. "No. Unless you're going for a management position, there's not much room for growth at the Dollar General."

"You know, my offer is still open if you want to—"

I reach over the table and place my hand over hers. "I appreciate it, but I really don't think I could do it." I withdraw my hand. "I can't see myself working in the adult film industry," I say with a giggle. "First of all, Mase would strangle me for even mentioning it, and second, have you seen my stretch marks?"

I laugh, but Rose just rolls her eyes. "No, you goof. A lot more goes into it than just people fucking on camera. There's an actual business side of it, too. I'm sure I could find something open in the office." She leans in close, her wide eyes dancing over the rim of her sunglasses as she drops her voice to a whisper. "We got some new talent recently that's easy on the eyes. A couple of them still need a fluffer." She waggles her eyebrows, and we both burst into laughter.

"What did I miss?" Alice swoops in, kissing my cheek before plopping down into the open seat on my other side. She hands me an open beer as she tips back her own.

I shake my head, still laughing. "Nothing. We were just talking about the new talent Rosie hired down at the studio."

"Oh, shit, that one guy has like a ten-inch dick!" Her whisper isn't quite low enough, and we earn more than one raised eyebrow from the guys across the patio.

"What are you doing over there, Ali? You bragging about me again?" Jasper shouts from his spot at the table. His sunglasses hide his sharp blue eyes, but his wide grin shines in the bright sunlight.

"You know it, baby." Alice blows him a kiss and winks, making the three of us giggle like teenagers. She sighs and leans back in her seat, smiling as she brings her beer bottle to her lips. "Drink up, ladies. I think it's gonna be a long day."

Staring down at the cold bottle in my hands, I think about how my day started and how it's not likely to get any better once my husband finally shows up. Ignoring the voice in my head telling me drinking is a bad idea, I finally take a swig, and it's bitter in more ways than one. "Yeah, I think so, too."

* * *

**A/N: So, what did you think? Any characters you think you might love to hate? I'd love to hear your thoughts. And as a side note, my vision for Masen is the fine specimen of man, Charlie Hunnam as Jax Teller on SoA.**

**I cannot stress enough, this one will NOT be for everyone. There will be angst. There will be questionable behavior from nearly all the characters. There will be a couple of Masen POV chapters. And I can assure you there will be questions from all of you that will not be answered for a while. But I ask that you trust me. I am a die-hard ExB girl and wholeheartedly believe in the HEA. If you can hang with all of that, strap on your own brain bucket and enjoy the ride. ;) But, if there are questions you MUST know the answers to, shoot me a PM or message through Facebook. I can't guarantee I'll answer them, but hopefully, I can put your mind at ease.**

**A lot has happened in the few weeks since I last posted. First, I've decided to dip my toe in the blog waters. Its primary purpose is to have a place to archive PDFs of my completed stories. That way there will always be a way for you to find me if something were to ever be a problem with FFN. I'll be adding the PDFs as I create them—I'm including images. ;) You can check it out and sign up for email updates, if you are so inclined, at ****brightsunshine1220. wixsite. com (forward slash) sunshinefics.** **Again, ****remember to remove the spaces and extras.**

**Annnnd ... I'm excited to say I'm a judge in a new contest. The A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Twilight Image Contest: Valentine Edition is open for entries through February 10. This is almost exclusively a Facebook contest, as the primary part of the contest is the image submitted, but we will also be posting the text parts of the entries on the FFN page, APictureIsWorthAThousandWords. So, be sure to follow in both places if you're interested. **

**Remember, you can follow my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics for teasers and pics that go with this story, as CSunshine1220 on Twitter, and on my blog listed above. I'm most active on FB, but I'm around elsewhere. ;)**

**As usual, I will update every Tuesday, barring any problems. Thanks so much for reading, and I'd love to hear what you think about the start of this next big adventure!**

**Lots of love**

**~Sunshine **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Songs:**

**I Am An Outsider, Three Days Grace  
****More Human Than Human, Rob Zombie  
****Dark, Breaking Benjamin  
****Forgive Me, Godsmack  
****Believe, Mumford and Sons  
****Infallible, Pearl Jam  
****Fell on Black Days, Soundgarden**

***Link to YouTube playlist is in chapter 1!**

* * *

**Edward**

It's a short ride between Pop and Mom's house on the outskirts of town and Cullen and Sons Automotive, just north of Main Street. Our clubhouse just so happens to share the property with the shop.

Growing up here, I had no idea I lived in a small town; I thought this was how everyone lived. But I lost that naiveté around the time I lost my front teeth. When Grandpa Cullen got sick and the local hospital couldn't treat him, they moved him to a special facility in Phoenix. Even as a six-year-old kid, I knew a big city wasn't for me. There were too many people and not enough miles of open road. Because even at the age of six, I knew I wanted to be just like my pop and wear the cut he revered, have the brotherhood he had with his fellow members.

Even then I knew I wanted to be an Outcast.

The streets are quiet as I idle at the main intersection of our tiny downtown; only the sound of my straight pipes echoes off the storefronts on this Sunday afternoon. The light turns green, and I ease the clutch out, slowly engaging the throttle. I pass Chief Swan as he lingers outside the police station, and I nod a greeting as I ride past.

He's a necessary evil in this town, along with his dipshit deputy. We've had a difficult time trying to convince Deputy Black that the Devil's Outcasts are what this town needs to keep the bad guys away.

When I roll up on the shop, the gate is open, just like I thought it would be. It's never left open unless someone is here. As I pull through the gate, I spot Masen's Dyna Super Glide parked outside the clubhouse. I pull past it and cut the engine, walking mine back next to his. Swinging my leg over the bike, I unfasten the strap on my brain bucket and hang it from the handlebars. I lean my ass on the seat and light a smoke. The lot is practically deserted today, given that nearly everyone is at Mom and Pop's place for the cookout. A couple of the prospects' bikes are here too, along with a single car that I'm pretty sure belongs to a house mouse. There's usually one here milling around, entertaining a horny patch holder, which means my brother might have some explaining to do.

I flick the ash from my cigarette and walk toward the door, fully expecting to have to clean up yet another mess my brother's gotten himself into.

The music is playing in the background as I walk inside. Buzz and Hawk are at the pool table while Rooster, our visiting nomad, is at the bar shooting the shit with Boomer over a couple of cold ones.

I make eye contact with Boomer and jerk my chin. "He back in his room?"

"Yeah, man. And he ain't alone."

"Didn't think he would be," I mumble as I snuff out my smoke in an ashtray. Stalking down the narrow hallway leading to the bedrooms, I hear them before I even reach the door. These bitches are anything but quiet.

"Mase!" I yell, pounding on the door.

The moaning and giggling don't stop, so I twist the knob and walk through the door. What I'm met with is nothing new. With a brunette riding his cock and a blonde riding his face, it's nothing I haven't seen my brother do before.

"Party's over, girls," I bark over the thumping bass of White Zombie pouring from the speakers on the dresser. Their shrieks of surprise make me straight up laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. I lean against the doorframe and watch the girls scurry around the room like the mice they are as they gather their clothes.

The brunette smiles up at me as she passes. She's a tight, little thing I've hit a time or two in the past. "Hey, E."

"Hey, sweetheart."

It isn't until I catch a glimpse of the blonde's face that I realize she isn't a house mouse at all. Before she can zip past me, I grab her bicep, halting her hasty retreat. Her wide, terrified eyes meet mine.

"What the fuck, Amber? This is what you do while your husband is in the goddamn hospital?"

Masen groans from his bed, but my eyes don't leave those of the traitorous bitch trembling in the doorway.

"You can't say anything, Ed. It'll kill him."

I get into her face and lower my voice. "You should have thought about that before you fucked my brother … both of them. Your husband _and_ Carl are gonna find out about this."

She bursts into tears, and I let her go, deciding to deal with the fallout later. I slam the door closed, bump the power button on the stereo with the side of my fist, and plop down into the recliner in the corner. "What the fuck are you thinking, Mase?" I dig into my pocket and pull out my pack, lighting one as I try and process what the hell just happened. When it sinks into my dense head, I lose my shit. I toss my lit cigarette into an empty bottle and stand, looming over him. "You're fucking brothers' old ladies now?" I pull my fist back and let it fly, landing a solid punch to his jaw and another one to his nose. When he doesn't fight back, my assault loses some of its appeal, and I let my clenched fists fall to my sides, my chest heaving.

My eyes travel over my brother. Dressed in only his cut, his dick is still half-hard and shiny. "Jesus Christ! You didn't even wrap it?" I kick the side of his bed, jarring him from his apparent indifference. "Fucking around is one thing, but dippin' your bare cock in them and then taking that shit home to your wife?" I kick his bed again, this time with more force, pushing the entire thing a foot across the floor.

His laugh is humorless as he sits up, grabbing his jeans from the floor. "Yeah, she'd have to let me fuck her for that to happen." He puts his feet in his pants, pulling at the waistband and slipping the denim up over his ass. Perched on the edge of his bed, he wipes his forearm across his nose, wincing. "Damn. You got me good." He reaches for his own smokes and lights one, drawing in a deep breath before blowing it out. "We haven't fucked in almost a month, and I don't see that changing any time soon."

"What the hell is going on with you two?" I sit down beside him and bump his shoulder with mine. "She showed up at Pop's today looking like someone ran over her puppy."

He shrugs as he takes a drag, blowing the smoke through his already swollen nose as he stares down at the floor. "I have no fucking idea. Things have been off with us for a while."

A beat of silence passes, and I can't stop myself from asking. "You two seriously not fucking? Even back when she was sixteen, Bella was—"

"If you wanna walk out of here without your own busted nose, do _not_ finish that sentence, E. I don't need to be reminded that you had her first." He takes another deep inhale from his smoke. "And the last few times I tried to fuck her, it's like I could actually see her skin crawl. It's not worth it."

"Yeah, but it hasn't always been like that, has it?"

"Nah, but things change, I guess. I think we're only together now because of the kid."

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

He looks up at me with tired eyes. "I didn't used to. But now …" He shrugs. "I don't know."

"Mase, you wouldn't have threatened to bust my nose if you didn't love her."

"Maybe, maybe not." He looks at me pointedly. "We both know I wasn't her first choice. I mean, we were happy for a while. Sam made us happy. But now …" He sighs, sounding utterly defeated. "I just know things aren't what they used to be. I used to think we could work at it until we got it right. I wanted to give my son what I didn't have—a real family, a mom _and_ a dad." He stares back down at his hands and lowers his voice. "But now I'm not so sure it's what's best for him … for any of us."

I'm quiet, not sure how to respond to any of that. I take a deep breath, trying to figure out how to handle what happened here. "What the fuck are you doing, Mase? Sleeping with a brother's wife is a new low, even for you."

"Yeah, I know."

"And you know I'm gonna have to tell Pop."

He nods once. "Figured as much."

"And there's a good chance this is gonna catch up to Bella."

"Yeah, I know."

"It's gonna make it harder to fix things, if they're as bad as you say they are. Do you even _want_ to work on shit with her?"

He shrugs as he takes another drag. "I don't know if there's much left to fix. We can't be in the same room without arguing about something. If it's not money, it's the fact that we're _still_ living with Gran. And if it's not one of those, it's arguing over how to raise Sammy." He looks up at me, his blue eyes shining with unshed tears. "Shit is fucked with us, bro."

"Anything I can do to help?"

He shakes his head and looks back at his hands. "I don't think so." He turns his face to me, his eyes meeting mine. "Maybe make sure Pop and Tank don't decide to take me for a long ride into the desert."

I bark out a laugh and grab him by the shoulders, shaking him. "Nah. Pop might let him clock you one, but there ain't no pussy worth losing a brother over." I slap him on the back and stand. "Now wipe that shit off your chin and let's go. Pop's missing you at his birthday party."

* * *

The party is in full swing when we finally get back to the house. As we walk through the patio door leading out back, everyone—except Bella—is crowded around, singing to Pop, and little Sammy is perched on his lap. Bella stands at the edge of the circle like usual, always on the periphery looking in. Her arms are crossed over her chest, watching her son as he croons "Happy Birthday" with a wide smile on his face.

From where I'm standing, I can see her shoulders tense when Masen reaches her. She waves off his touch and takes a step away from everyone … and a few steps closer to me. And unfortunately, I'm close enough to hear their conversation.

"You smell like pussy, Mase," she growls. "Did you even wash your dick before you stuffed it back in your pants?" Her head finally turns to get a good look at him. Her eyes widen when they take in his busted nose and red jaw. She looks around, her gaze landing on me. She looks between her husband and me, her eyes flashing from his fresh bruises to my red knuckles.

She gives Masen a shove and moves to walk around him. "Just get away from me." Disappearing into the house, Bella leaves an angry-looking Masen in her wake.

He ambles back to my side, bringing his bottle to his lips. "See what happens when we try to talk?"

"You, my friend, dug your own grave." With three fingers wrapped around the neck of my own bottle, I point to the door. "But you know she, of all people, deserves better than that."

Nothing more is said, and we both turn back to the festivities. Mom meets my eyes as she passes out slices of cake, and she smiles. When she sees Masen standing at my side, her smile falls, and it pisses me off. Even after twenty-eight years, she still sees my half-brother as the enemy.

Like it's his fault our father fucked around on her.

A solid mass collides with my middle, and I look down into the eyes of my own son. I wrap my arms around Seth, and the top of his head almost reaches my chest. He's gonna be tall like his old man.

"Can I have cake, Dad?"

"Why wouldn't you be able to have cake? Did your mom say you couldn't when she dropped you off?"

He shakes his head. "No, but Nana said I had to ask you."

"Yeah, you can have cake. It's a party, right?" I ruffle his too-long hair.

"Thanks, Dad," he says, escaping my arms and running back toward his grandma as she serves up the sweets.

"We'll be doing this again for him in, what, a month?"

"Yeah, five weeks. Can't believe he's gonna be nine already." I watch Seth help Sammy with his plate. Then I turn to meet my brother's eyes. "And him not living with me, I missed too much with him. I'm grateful as fuck Angela lets me see him as much as I do." I stab a finger into his chest and lower my voice. "And you, _you_ have your family—your _wife and son—_under your roof every night. I would have done anything to have that, so stop fucking up and fix your shit, Mase. Or you're gonna wake up one morning and realize you lost it all."

Pissed off, I stomp away and try to distract myself. I find Jazz and my sister, Alice, sitting at the high-top table shooting the shit with Mac and Rose.

My sister's head pops up and her eyes narrow. "Where did you take off to? You were here earlier, and then you just disappeared."

"I had to go pick something up." I watch Mase across the yard as he digs through the cooler for a fresh beer. After twisting the top off one, he plops his ass in one of the chairs under the shade sail, watching everyone from a distance … just like his wife had.

"He up to his same shit?" Jazz asks as he takes a drag from his smoke.

"You could say that."

"Hey," Mac says from my left. "Carl called for church in the morning when we've all slept off today."

I nod, lighting another cigarette. "Then we better make it something to sleep off, huh?" I ask with a grin.

Everyone laughs and raises their glass or bottle to the sentiment. The two couples at the table continue their conversations, so I'm left to let my eyes wander. As I watch Masen drinking alone in the shade, I see how miserable he looks. He has to know he's screwed up. I recognize that look. I wore it for months when Bella and I went our separate ways ten years ago.

I have to wonder if I didn't fight hard enough for her when I had the chance. The only thing I can do now is help him fight to keep what I lost.

* * *

"All in favor?" Pop looks around the table as everyone raises their hand, voting to take the protection job next week.

"The ayes have it," he says just before his gavel comes down. "Jazz, set it up."

"You got it, Carl." Jazz and everyone else rise from the table. Even Masen—who takes off like his ass is on fire—heads out of the room, leaving Pop and me alone.

"Something on your mind, son?"

I nod, keeping my eyes focused on my clasped hands lying on the tabletop. "Yeah, you could say that."

"What is it? It looks like you've got a lot on your mind."

I raise my eyes to meet his, and they're so much like Masen's that it's difficult to speak up. "We might have a problem."

"And the reason you didn't bring it up with everyone else here?"

I heave a lengthy sigh and sit back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. "Because this is more personal than club business, even if it does concern both."

He huffs a breath through his nose, obviously losing his patience with me. "Would you just spit it out?"

"When I came back here yesterday to snag Mase's sorry ass and drag him back to the party, he wasn't alone."

"And? How is it club business if he's fucking around on Bella?"

"Because one of the two chicks he had in his room was Amber."

"Christ," he mumbles under his breath. "Tank's wife?"

"Yeah."

He rests heavily back in his chair, his head tilted back as he looks at the ceiling. "What the fuck is his problem?"

"I was hoping you could tell me." I give him a pointed stare until he turns his head toward me.

"How the hell am I supposed to know what's going through your brother's hard head?"

I shrug. "Thought you might have some insight into the workings of a cheater's mind."

He stands abruptly, shoving his chair away as he rises to his feet. "Watch your fucking mouth, Edward."

I rise from my own chair, leaning forward with my knuckles resting against the tabletop. "Maybe you could have a little heart-to-heart with him." I pat him on the shoulder. "Maybe try to figure out how to keep Tank from killing him once he's released from the hospital, because you and I both know we need to tell him what happened. Best case scenario, Tank knocks him out and we put it behind us. A distraction like this is the last thing we need. I know we haven't put it to a vote yet, but we have another run for García on the books, and we all need to have our heads right for that."

He nods as he rubs a heavy hand across his forehead. "Yeah, I'll talk to him."

* * *

The bell from the lot rings, signaling the arrival of another vehicle as it drives over the cable. I look up from the car I'm working on and peer out of the bay into the lot. I grab a rag, wiping the sweat from my forehead and watching as Pop attempts to talk to Masen.

My brother's arms are crossed defensively across his chest, and Pop has one hand on his son's shoulder. They're deep in conversation, but I'm not sure how much is actually getting through Mase's thick skull. But he needs to listen. If there's one man who can argue the reasons to fix his marriage, it's Carlisle Cullen.

There's something to be said for learning from the sins of the father.

When Masen finally nods, a small flicker of hope seeps into the dark cracks of my heart. If there is one regret I have in life, it's the way I ended things with Bella … even if it wasn't my choice. All these years later, I only want to see her happy.

* * *

**A/N: You guys are awesome! Thank you so much for the amazing response to chapter one. I saw a lot of new names pop up in my notifications, so to all my new readers, welcome! And to familiar friends, thanks for trusting me for another bumpy ride. :) Review replies are hard for me to keep up with, but please know I read and treasure each and every one of your reviews.**

**So, the general consensus is no one is very fond of Grandma Carmen, Esme, **_**or**_** Masen. And I'd venture to guess after this chapter, those opinions are only going to intensify. I'd love to hear what you think! And on a side note, don't get too hung up on the nicknames. Road names are commonplace in the MC world, and if you pay attention to the details, you should be able to figure out most everyone's Twi-dentity. ;) But I do have a spreadsheet so I can keep track myself. lol**

**Remember, you can follow my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics, for teasers and chapter pics, as CSunshine1220 on Twitter, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks for reading! **

**Lots of love**

**~Sunshine **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 **

**Songs:**

**A Lesson Learned, Limp Bizkit  
****Glass Jaw, Theory of a Deadman  
****Nobody Praying For Me, Seether  
****Fix Me, 10 years  
****Snake Eyes, Mumford & Sons**

***Link to YouTube playlist is in chapter 1! **

***Remember when I said there would be questionable behavior you might not agree with? Let's get started on some of that, shall we? Here we go.**

* * *

**Masen**

"I'll keep it between the four of us for now, but Tank has every right to bring this shit to the next meeting. Hell, he could call for your patch if he really wanted to. He's been part of the club a lot longer than you, Mase. I can't promise how he's gonna react." Pop looks at me over the rim of his sunglasses, and his disappointment in me is obvious. "You need to straighten up, son. I don't know what crawled up your ass and made you think any of this was okay, but it ends now."

I turn my head toward the service bays, and Edward's ever-watchful eyes are on us. "Yeah, I know."

"And I can't stop the guys from talking, so I'm sure it'll end up getting back to your wife. You know I love Bella like my own daughter, but none of your personal garbage can wind up here at the club. This isn't the place for it."

"I'll deal with it," I promise, turning back to my father. "So, what? Are we going down to First Memorial, or do we wait till he gets released and goes home?"

His hand lands on my shoulder, and he squeezes. "We need to handle this before he's released. He needs to know what he's going home to. You owe him that much." He turns toward the bays. "Maybe ask your brother to come along, too."

I nod and push off the railing I've been leaning against to head toward the shop. My boots scuff along the pavement, and I think I'm subconsciously trying to delay the inevitable.

Edward jerks his chin at me as he wipes the grease from his hand with a shop rag. "What's up?"

"Me and Pop are going down to talk to Tank. He said you should probably come along."

He nods and stuffs the rag into his back pocket. "Yeah, just give me about ten minutes."

"We'll be ready when you are."

Keeping to his word, Edward is on his bike beside mine ten minutes later. The three of us flick on our ignition switches and file out, one after the other. The ride to the hospital is quick, taking us through town and past the Dollar General where Bella's working a morning shift.

My stomach twists when I see her run-down Honda parked in the lot, feeling guilty about all the shit I've put her through in the last few months—hell, the last few years. She's been a saint to put up with my bullshit. But Edward is right; I need to fix my issues if I have any hope of saving what's left of my marriage.

And when we pull into the parking lot of the hospital, I realize I'm about to take the first step toward making it all right.

* * *

"Hey." E kicks my boot with his own. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just have a lot on my mind."

The plastic chairs are hard, too small and uncomfortable, and this is the last place I want to have any kind of serious conversation.

"Did you and Bella talk yet?"

I shake my head. "No, I didn't even bother going home last night. I stayed in my room at the clubhouse."

"Mase," he groans, banging the back of his head against the wall.

"It wasn't like that, Edward." I stare at him until he turns his head to look at me. "I was alone. I had a few shots, toked up, and knocked the fuck out. I knew better than to start any more trouble for myself."

"Brother, you have enough trouble to last yourself a lifetime."

Before I can reply, Pop appears in the doorway of our club brother's room. "Mase? Tank wants a word."

"Time to pay the piper, huh?" I ask nervously.

Edward lands a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. "This is all part of fixing it, Mase."

Blowing out a breath, I rise to my feet and step toward Tank's room. "Yeah. Doesn't make it any easier, though."

Tank looks better than the last time we visited. Well, his complexion does, anyway. His eyes are burning with fire, and he has every right to hate me.

"Hey, brother, you're looking good," I say with a shaky voice.

"Don't you 'brother' me, you son of a bitch. Carl says Ed caught you fucking Amber." He struggles to sit up, obviously still sore from his hernia surgery.

"Sit your ass back before you pop a stitch or something," Pop says to him, placing a hand on his chest.

Tank sits back in his bed, his jaw tight and his eyes narrowed. "If I could get out of this bed, I would kick your ass."

I bite the inside of my cheek and nod. "Yeah, and I would deserve every bit of it."

Pop steps forward. "But we all know you're in no shape to dole out any kind of ass kicking, Tank. So, how do you want to handle this?"

His narrowed eyes move around the room, looking at the three of us. They finally land on my brother. "Your father says you were there?"

"I was," Edward answers.

"And you had words with Amber?"

"I did."

"Well, what the hell did she have to say for herself?"

He inhales a sharp breath and blows it out. "She didn't want me to say anything to you."

"Of course, she didn't," Tank mumbles.

"Honestly, I think she was worried about you. She was worried you'd be hurt."

Tank scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. "She should've thought about that before she opened her damn legs." He shakes his head. "But this isn't the first time she's done this," he says quietly.

It's silent and tense for far too long, and just when I'm about to speak up, Pop breaks the quiet. "So, what do you want to do, Tank?"

He bores a hole through me with his laser-sharp eyes. "I have every right to rip your patches right off your goddamn cut and send you packing, son."

"I know."

His jaw clenches as he stares me down. "I've been around long enough to watch you grow up, Mase. Why the hell would you do this ... to me, to your pop, to the _club_?"

I'm silent, sure that his questions were rhetorical.

Tank sighs. "I guess that's what I get for marrying a younger woman, huh?" He grins ruefully before looking up at me, his finger pointed. "You're still gonna get your ass beat." His eyes almost sparkle as he turns to Pop. "I want an ass whoopin' by proxy."

"By proxy?" Pop asks, chuckling.

"Yeah. We all know I'm in no shape to fight, so I want one of the prospects to get in the ring with this one." he says, pointing at me. His head swivels my way. "And you're gonna fight with one arm tied behind your back."

My asshole brother and father laugh, and Tank looks almost gleeful for a moment. Before we leave the hospital, the arrangements are made for me to go toe-to-toe with Buzz tomorrow morning, after Tank's release.

He wants his ringside seat, after all.

* * *

All the work at the shop comes to a screeching halt when Buzz and I cross under the ropes of the club's outdoor ring. Edward does his duty and ties my goddamn right arm behind my back, per Tank's demands, and Buzz—the fucker with the buzzed head and crazy eyes—doesn't hold back.

I swear to Christ the maniac must've been an MMA fighter in a former life. Punches, roundhouse kicks, kidney jabs—he fights dirty and hits hard. He even takes a cheap shot or two to my balls. And the thin shorts I'm wearing might as well leave me naked for all the protection they're offering me.

When Tank finally calls it, I stand bruised and bleeding for all to see, my chest heaving, while Buzz has hardly a scratch on him. I guess Tank thinks I'm sufficiently humiliated. All the guys are cheering over my misfortune as I stumble out of the ring.

And as always, Edward is there to catch my sorry ass. "I think that's gonna leave a mark," he jokes.

"Ya think?" I mumble, tasting blood and looking at him from under swollen eyelids.

He helps me lower myself into a nearby chair and hands me a bottle of water. "You want to stay here tonight or come to my place?"

I take a sip, mindful of the hard edge, and swish and spit the water onto the pavement. "I don't want to put you out."

He raises an eyebrow. "You won't be. Besides, I don't think it's a good idea to leave you alone here. After that beating, I want to make sure you wake up in the morning." He laughs like it's a joke, but even with my blurry vision, I can see how worried he is.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Can you maybe …" I clear my throat. "Could you give Bella a call?"

"Sure thing, brother." He pats me on the shoulder and walks away, pulling his cell from his pocket.

It's always been an internal struggle for me, where my brother and my wife are concerned. For half my life, Bella has been between us in one way or another. It's never been easy, knowing they share a past, but we've made it work. Edward and I have both loved her since she came into our lives when we were just kids, too stupid to realize our choices way back then would affect us years later.

Tank's heavy hand slapping me on my sore shoulder snaps me out of my thoughts.

"You put up more of a fight than I thought you would, kid."

I stiffly rise to my feet. "I had to at least try, old man," I say with a grin. "Had to give the boys a show, too."

He chuckles. "Well, that you did, Mase. That you did."

"Everything okay when you went home this morning?" I ask, curious about how it went when he faced his wife.

He shrugs. "I had a couple of the prospects meet me there to pack her shit." His grin falls and he turns serious. "I'll be contacting a lawyer this week."

"I'm sorry man. I—"

"It's over and done, Mase. Let's just move past it, yeah?"

I nod. "Sure, Tank."

He opens his arms and I open mine, and with a squeeze and a slap of my back, we put it behind us.

* * *

"Don't you have any chips or something?" I ask as I rummage through Edward's cabinets.

"No, man. Seth cleaned me out the other day. I need to go to the store," Edward calls from the sofa. "Oh, I think there might be some Oreos above the fridge."

I reach over the refrigerator, blindly looking for the cookies, and my sore muscles protest. "Shit," I whisper. "How about some Tylenol?"

He pulls himself away from watching the TV and walks toward the bathroom. "I'll do you one better. I think I have some Lortabs left over from that spill I took in the spring."

"Anything would help, man." I groan as I settle into the recliner, cookies in hand.

"Here," he says, tossing the bottle my way.

Reflexively, I reach out and grab it, which is a bad idea. The sudden movement sends a sharp pain through my side, and I gasp.

"He really beat the shit outta you, didn't he?"

I scowl at my brother as I pop a pill into my mouth. "Ya think?" I ask after swallowing the pill dry. "Damn, I don't think the guys are gonna let me live this one down for a long time."

"Hey, you do the crime, you do the time."

"I guess so," I say with a sigh. "But to have my ass handed to me by a prospect ..."

He raises a brow. "You won't be tapping any brothers' old ladies any time soon, will ya?"

"I won't be tapping anyone but _my _old lady from here on out, man. If she'll even let me touch her after this."

"Was it worth it?"

I huff a humorless laugh through my swollen nose. "No. With you beating down my door, I didn't even get mine."

My brother's laugh is loud as he tosses his head back. "You are a special kind of stupid, aren't you?"

"Yeah, laugh it up, man." I lean my head back and stare, unseeing, at the TV. "I don't know what the hell I was thinking."

"You obviously weren't, Mase." The canned laughter on the sitcom fills the silence as I wait for what I know is coming. "I mean, _why_? When you've got Bella at home, why are you _still_ hooking up? We both know Amber and that other chick aren't the first ones. I'd give anything to—" He stops, unwilling to say what's always on his mind where my wife is concerned.

"Give anything to what?" I swivel my head to look at him. "Just say it. You'd give anything to be in my place, right? Why don't you just back the fuck up and get off my back. You have no idea how hard it's been, okay? You're unattached, and all that willing pussy always crawling around the clubhouse, hell, everywhere we go ... " I look back at the TV and cross my arms. "It's a lot harder to say no when things at home aren't all sunshine and rainbows."

"What are you talking about? You sound like your home life is miserable, and I know that's not true." His voice lowers. "I'm just saying, you have a life a lot of guys would kill for."

"Yourself included?" I chuckle humorlessly. "You know, the first five years Bella and I were married, I worried you'd try and swoop in and pull her away from me—"

"You know I wouldn't have—"

"It doesn't matter. I knew you still had feelings for her. I knew you regretted the way shit went down."

"What changed in the last two years, Mase? You two were good for a long time. What happened?"

I shrug, scratching my thumbnail along the edge of the armrest. "Guess shit just got to be too much. We both know Bella isn't happy where we are—living with Gran. We don't always agree about how to raise Sam. Money got tight—even tighter than it was at the beginning. And all of that just snowballed. We started fighting more, and I just needed to feel something other than pissed at the world."

"So you thought lying to your wife and sleeping around would help?" He scoffs, clearly irritated with me.

"I never meant to hurt her," I say quietly. I look up at my brother. "As lame as it sounds, it just happened. And I let it happen. I know I'm doing a shitty job of being her husband lately. You made me promise to—"

"Don't," he warns. "That shit was settled a long time ago."

"How do I fix this?"

"I think maybe you should start with being honest with yourself. Do you even _want_ to fix it?"

I think back to why I'm with Bella. Her smile, her laugh, the way we used to be able to talk for hours about life and our plans for the future—they're all the things about her I fell in love with. Looking at my brother, I figure they're some of the same reasons he fell in love with her so long ago. It's only because of his mistakes that I was able to have her at all. And I know, without a doubt, if I let her go, he'd be there to pick up the pieces of her already-broken heart.

I know what I need to do.

"Yeah, I do."

* * *

"Bella?" I yell as I walk through the front door.

"Masen? Is that you?" She comes around the corner, a laundry basket resting against her hip. "Oh, my god! What happened?" She drops the basket on the floor and rushes to my side, her hands moving over the bruises and cuts littering my face.

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine, Mase! What the hell happened?"

I take her hands in mine and lead us to sit on the sofa. "Me and one of the guys got into it."

"A club member did this?" Her eyes are wide, and her voice raises about seven octaves. "Who? _Why_?"

"It doesn't matter."

She clenches her jaw and purses her lips. "This is why you camped out at your brother's for the last three days?"

I lower my eyes to our still-joined hands. "It looked a lot worse a few days ago. I didn't want Sammy to see me like that."

She pulls her hands from mine, and I instantly feel the loss of her touch. She lays back into the cushions and crosses her arms over her chest. "He's been asking questions since we left your dad's." Her voice lowers and cracks, and tears fill her eyes. "He asked me if you'd left ... like, forever. I didn't know what to tell him. He thinks it's because of what happened with the bike."

My own voice cracks, and tears cloud my vision. "I'm so fucking sorry, Bella."

"I know you are. But sorry isn't good enough anymore, Mase." She wipes at her cheeks. "We can't keep doing this."

"I know."

"Do you? I mean, do you really know what I'm asking?"

I nod, sniffing back the tears and swallowing the lump in my throat. "I do."

"You've made promises before, Mase." She levels me with narrowed, angry eyes.

"I know I have. And I know my promises are empty words until my actions back them up." I reach for her hand, pulling it from the death grip she has on her elbow. "I'll do my best to control my temper where Sammy is concerned, and I'll talk to Pop about giving me a few more hours at the—"

"You think this is about money?" She yanks her hand away from me and stands. "I could give a fuck less about money. I've come to accept we'll always struggle. I know we'll never get out of this tiny ass town. I was okay with all that"—she bursts into tears—"as long as _we_ were okay."

Her shoulders shake with the force of her sobs, and I'm off my ass and on my feet in an instant. I wrap my arms around her, and for once, she doesn't shrug me off. The instant my fingertips touch the bare skin of her neck as I cradle her head in my hand, the weight of the last few months crashes down on me, and I allow a few of my own tears to fall.

The last time I remember feeling her skin on mine, we were halfway into a bottle of Jack on my birthday. The fact she had to be drunk to let me inside of her hurt more than I'll ever admit. But I understood.

I haven't earned asshole status overnight, after all.

"I don't know if I can trust you, Mase," she murmurs against my chest, her tears soaking through my t-shirt. "You've done this before. I know you were with someone else the day of Pop's party, and I don't know if I can let it go this time."

"I'm sorry," I whisper, kissing the top of her head. "I only ask that you give me the chance to prove myself."

When she looks up at me, her brown eyes are filled with pain, and I'm the one who put it there. "I don't know how many more chances I have left to give."

I kiss her forehead and hold her tightly, wishing for all the world I could undo all the shit I've put her through. The only thing I can do now is try ... for her ... for us.

* * *

"Daddy!" Sam barrels through the front door, flinging his backpack onto the sofa before practically hopping into my arms. "I thought you weren't coming back."

I squeeze him tightly, breathing him in like my life depends on it, and I wonder how I ever thought giving up on this was a good idea.

"I just had some things to work out, buddy." I pull back and meet his wide eyes. "I'm sorry I was gone for a few days."

"Did you have to go on a run with Poppa C?" he asks excitedly.

The corner of my mouth raises in a grin, secretly thrilled he's already showing an interest in the club. It gives me hope it'll be part of his life like it has been for me, his uncle, and his Poppa.

"Not this time."

He wiggles out of my arms, and his feet hit the floor, already bored with our conversation. He unzips his backpack and pulls out the school folder Bella has to sign every night. "Mommy said we were gonna have pa-sketti for dinner tonight." He looks toward the kitchen where Bella is watching us with guarded eyes. "Is that right, Mommy? Are we still havin' pa-sketti?"

She smiles as he runs to her for a hug. "Yeah, baby."

Our eyes meet over our son's head, and I vow to myself to do everything I can to make sure I don't screw up this last shot she's giving me.

* * *

**A/N: Say it with me ... long and winding road. ;)**

**Most everyone is chomping at the bit to learn about what led to Edward and Bella's breakup. The answers are coming, but they won't be all at once, so hang in there with me. **

**Have any of you figured out any of the nicknames? I will admit a few of them aren't terribly easy. But you should be able to pick out some of our favorite twi characters. **

**I'm loving all of your reviews. I'm trying to reply to all of them, but I'm having a hard time keeping up. I spent three hours responding to those for chapter 2, and I'm not sure if I'll be able to do that every week ... If I don't get to yours this week, please know I read and love them all. The very best way to interact and discuss is in my Facebook group. I'm there far more often than I should be. ;) But you can always PM me with questions or concerns. **

**I'm happy to announce I'm officially registered for this year's TFMU in Austin, TX this coming June! I hope some of you will be able to make it. For more details, visit tfmutwificmeetup. com. Don't forget to remove the space. **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Lots of love**

**~Sunshine **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Songs:**

**Try by P!nk  
****She Don't Want the World, 3 Doors Down  
****Everything Changes, Staind  
Breathe Me, Sia  
Pendulum, Pearl Jam**

***Link to YouTube playlist is in chapter 1!**

* * *

**Bella**

"Here you go," I say with a smile as I hand Mrs. Cope her receipt and change. "Have a good day."

"You too, dear." She smiles and ambles toward the door.

One glance at my watch tells me I have another hour until we close, and it won't be a minute too soon. My manager, Mike Newton, is lurking nearby, and being here with him at closing time always makes my hackles rise. He sometimes gets too close, too in my personal space. He's also an absolute prick. He rides around town on his neon green Kawasaki Ninja 300 thinking he's hot shit, only making him more pathetic. And the fact that he looks down on the club, calling them criminals and losers, makes me angry.

He has no idea what they do for this town.

Time passes slowly, as it always does at work, but finally, I'm counting my drawer and clocking out. I pop my head into Mike's broom closet of an office to let him know I'm leaving. He's sitting with his feet crossed at the ankle and propped on his tiny desk, doing God only knows what on his phone.

"Oh, yeah, I'm coming." He sits up so abruptly, his chair snaps forward, nearly knocking him off balance.

I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from laughing. I turn and walk toward the front of the store as Mike sets the alarm and turns off lights before he meets me at the door. We walk outside and he locks up.

Standing like the obedient part-time employee I am, I hold my messenger bag open for his official inspection. He always makes a spectacle of this part, his gaze lingering just a little too long on the shit in my bag.

"Looks good, Bella." His haughty stance, his stiff posture and slimy smile do anything but make me feel an ounce of respect for him.

I hoist the strap of my bag over my shoulder and turn toward the street, waiting for my ride.

"Are you having car trouble again?" he asks, looking around the lot like he gives a shit.

I turn toward him and watch as he suits up in his ridiculous bright green riding suit. I wonder to myself if it's fire retardant, too. "Uh, yeah," I say, shaking the errant thoughts out of my head. "Starter went out this morning. Mase was supposed to work on it today. Hopefully, it's fixed when I get home."

Mike opens his mouth, but before he can speak, I hear the rumble of Masen's bike. The sight of him makes my heart skip a beat. It always has. Contrary to what a lot of people think, I've always loved him. He might not have been the only Cullen brother I fell in love with, but he's the one who chose me.

"Hey," he says with a chin jerk as he pulls up beside me, killing the engine and balancing the bike with both feet on the ground.

"Hey."

He turns sideways and unhooks the bungee holding my helmet to the rear seat. He hands it to me and turns his attention to Mike, watching as he pulls his bright green jacket over his black polo shirt. "He ever say anything about the extra hours?" Masen's eyes meet mine.

Slipping on my jacket, I shake my head. "No, and every time I bring it up, he gets all ... managerial."

"Managerial?" he asks with a grin.

"Yes," I say, shoving his shoulder. "Shut up. You know what I mean. He's just an ass who likes to feel important. I think he likes lording his superiority over his employees." Once I strap on my helmet, I walk to the side of the bike and throw my leg over the seat, scooting close to my husband and wrapping my arms around him.

He starts the engine, but we sit still for a moment. It's the most intimate position we've been in for days, since he said he'd try to fix things between us, and I think we both feel the weight of the moment. He places his left hand over my laced fingers and leaves it there. I lay my head down, my cheek against his back, and close my eyes.

I would give almost anything to get back to where we used to be.

He lifts his left foot and kicks down into first gear before slowly engaging the clutch. We roll out of the lot and onto the road. The streets are nearly empty on this Sunday evening. A sudden urge strikes to take a moment for just us, and as we pull up to the stoplight, I ask if we have to go straight home.

"No. Why?" he asks loudly over the rumble of the engine.

"We haven't been out in a while, that's all."

"Yeah?" He turns and looks over his shoulder.

I smile at the hope in his voice. "Yeah."

He turns back to the road. "Okay then."

When the light turns green, he eases into first, but takes off like a shot when we clear the center of town. I hold tightly to him, breathing in the moment—the wind rushing toward my face as we race down the road, the feel of the muscles of his back flexing as he controls the bike, and the warmth of our bodies as I cling to him. There are no words, no arguments, no bills to pay, no nagging woman in my kitchen telling me I'm doing a shitty job raising my son. It's just us and the wind.

Main Street morphs into a state route leading into the outlying desert, and as we get farther away from town, the landscape changes. The setting sun paints the sky orange and purple, and as the sun slips away, the air changes. Gone is the heat, replaced with cooler, dry air. We fly down the darkening road, and a peace I haven't felt in a long time fills me. When the stars begin to shine brighter the farther away from town we get, I know it's almost time to turn around. The trip can't last forever, and all too soon, responsibilities call us back home.

The trailer is dark and quiet when we pull into the driveway. Carmen sits outside on the small patio, her ever-present cigarette hanging from her lips.

"Took you two long enough," she mumbles.

Masen shrugs as we walk up the path to the door. "Wanted to go for a ride."

"I had to put the kid to bed. You know I don't like doing that shit. He's _your_ kid." Her eyes move between Masen and me, judgment clear in her gaze.

"And you know as well as anyone Bella and I could use a fucking minute to just _be_."

She snuffs out her smoke and stands with a huff. She walks toward the door, but before she goes inside, she turns to speak over her shoulder. "I had to use that machine tonight."

"His nebulizer?" My feet are already moving me toward the house, anxious to see Sammy if he's had an asthma attack tonight.

"He's fine now." She turns and fully faces me. "I took care of it."

When the door slams closed, Masen pulls me into his arms. "Hey, she said he's okay. Take a minute to calm down first." He pulls away and looks into my eyes. "If you go in there now, you two are going to go at it."

"She makes me so mad, Mase!" My hands are clenched into fists, and he's right; I'm ready for a fight.

"I know." He kisses my forehead, and the ice that's been caging my heart for so long melts just a little. The last couple of weeks have been good. He's been calmer, more attentive to not only Sammy, but me, too.

When we see Carmen's bedroom light switch on, I know she's in there for the night, and we walk inside. There are toys strewn around the main room, dishes in the sink, and Sammy's backpack is open and half empty, so I already know Carmen didn't help him get his things ready for school tomorrow.

I tiptoe down the hall and peek into Sammy's room. He's curled up in his bed, holding on to the stuffed bear he's had since he was a toddler. The sound of his clear, even breaths is reassuring. I bend down and brush his hair from his face, kissing him on the forehead.

"He okay?" Masen whispers form the doorway.

"Yeah," I reply, turning to look over my shoulder.

With another kiss and a tuck of his blankets, I leave his room, closing the door behind me. Facing the mess Carmen left, I set to work cleaning up the day while Masen goes back outside to tinker with his grandfather's bike.

That bike has been a source of great tension between the two of us. The 1956 Panhead was buried in Carmen's storage shed when Grandpa Denali died twenty years ago. No one knew it was there until I got pregnant with Sam. Masen went searching for any baby things that might have been packed away. He pulled the tarp off of it and has been sinking money we don't have into it ever since. He says it'll be something to pass down to Sammy one day, a piece of his family's history. I have my doubts.

When everything is sufficiently clean, I step outside and take my usual spot on top of an overturned milk crate. With his smoke dangling from his lips, Masen is sitting on his shop stool, focused on his work.

"Did you get the starter replaced in the Honda?"

He turns and meets my eyes. "Yeah."

"How much was it?"

"Just over ninety bucks."

I close my eyes and exhale slowly. "Shit."

"Yeah. I'm gonna ask Pop for more hours at the shop. See if we can get ahead a little."

With the days passing and my time to tell him about the baby running out, I decide now is as good a time as any. "I'm pregnant," I say softly.

He hangs his head and pulls the cigarette form his mouth, rubbing a hand over his face. "Are you sure?" He turns to me.

"I haven't been to the doctor yet, but I'm late, and I had a positive home test."

"What the hell are we gonna do, Bella?"

"I don't know," I say with tears in my eyes.

"We're barely holding our head above water as it is."

"I know," I whisper.

"Jesus," he says, shaking his head. "We were together once—_one time_—in the last, what, two months? And I manage to get you pregnant."

"I'm sorry," I whisper, the tears I've been holding back finally spilling onto my cheeks.

He rolls his stool over to me and wraps his arms around me. "No, baby. This isn't your fault." He pulls back enough to look into my eyes. "I'm pretty sure this one is on both of us." He holds my head to his chest as I cry. "We'll figure it out. We always do."

He holds me until the tears stop, then he releases me to go back in the house. When he finally makes his way inside, I'm half hidden behind the corner at the hallway of the living room, waiting for him. I watch as he slips his boots off his feet and scrubs a hand over his face.

"You look tired."

My voice startles him. "I guess I am." He looks from me to the pile of blankets on the sofa, where he's been sleeping for the last couple of weeks. "I haven't been sleeping all that well lately."

I pause, uncertain about what I'm about to offer, but the hope in his eyes is my undoing. "Why don't you come to bed?" I ask softly with a tilt of my head toward our room.

He looks skeptical, and I can't blame him. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

He follows me down the hall, and as I change into cotton shorts and a tank top, he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. He takes off his jeans and slides into bed beside me. Like he has for so many years, he opens his arms to me, and I easily fall into them. With my head lying against his chest, I trace the letters of my name and Sammy's inked there, wishing we could get back to the way we were when things were simpler. His heartbeat thrums in my ear, and the longer we lie this way, the more relaxed we both become.

And as if by instinct, I scoot closer to him, suddenly desperate for the contact. He must sense it, because he shifts us until we're face to face. He tilts my chin up and brings his mouth to mine. His lips are feather-light, cautious, like he's waiting for me to put a stop to what he's doing. But I don't. Instead, I grasp the chain around his neck and pull him closer. Pressed against his chest, I can feel his heart pounding just beneath the surface of his skin as his tongue invades my mouth.

His hands drift, dancing over my sensitive skin and sliding into my shorts, cupping my ass and pulling me impossibly closer. My legs open as he rolls us, and he's suddenly above me, my aching pussy rubbing against his boxer-clad, rock-hard cock. His mouth moves to my neck and I tangle my fingers in his blond hair, holding him to me and praying nothing in me screams to stop this.

He rocks against me, slow and careful but with purpose, and sparks of want ignite a fire low in my belly. My breaths quicken, and sighs of pleasure escape my lips. He slips off my shorts and pulls my tank over my head, leaving me bare beneath him. His fingers find my center, swirling and probing, and his lips and tongue wrap around my nipple until I'm writhing beneath him. His mouth moves up, licking a path toward my ear.

"Please," he murmurs against the skin of my neck. "Please, baby."

I push his head back, gripping his hands as they cradle my face and meeting his steel blue gaze. "Please don't hurt me," I whisper.

His eyes fill with an emotion I'm so tired of seeing—regret. "I'm so—"

I press my lips against his and wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him to me. He holds back for just a moment, though, reaching for the drawer in the bedside table. I close my eyes, accepting the harsh reality of where we've been—where _he's_ been—and wait for him to sheath himself in a layer of latex meant to protect me. His eyes meet mine, and with a small kiss from me granting him permission to take this step, he pushes forward. Before I can take another breath, he's inside me.

Tears fill my eyes, not from any physical pain, but from the overwhelming emotions coursing through me. Sadness, regret, hope—they all battle for the biggest place in my heart. But even with as many problems as we've had over the years, this is one thing we've never had a problem with. It's always been simple, easy, and it's almost a relief to have it back.

My eyes hardly leave his as he moves over me, inside me, only momentarily breaking the connection when our mouths crash together. Quiet reassurances leave his lips, and tears escape my eyes and trail into my hair. He kisses them away as a wave of pleasure crashes over me. Then with his face buried in my neck, he whispers promises that he'll never hurt me again and groans his release into my skin. I hold him tightly, hoping he can keep them.

Sweating and panting, we stay tangled together. His weight is heavy on top of me, but I have no intention of moving. We lie like that, no words spoken, merely breathing each other in as our heart rates slow and our breaths even out. But all too soon, he pulls away, rolling over and removing the condom before tossing it in the wastebasket beside the bed. For a moment I'm afraid he'll roll over and fall asleep, but when he settles into his pillow, he pulls me back into his arms.

"I love you," he says, kissing the top of my head as I lay it on his chest.

"Love you, too."

No more words are spoken, and I easily drift to sleep, hopeful we're on the way back to us.

Days pass, and both of us are hyper aware of the other. It's not perfect, but it's better. We have breakfast together as a family well before Carmen emerges from her room, so it's peaceful. I drop Sam at school, Masen goes to the shop or the clubhouse, and I work the morning shift three days a week and close on the weekends.

Mike is still being a prick about giving me more hours, telling me corporate won't allow it, all while Jessica Stanley—who I know for a fact is fucking him—is working a forty-hour week with full benefits. He's insinuated that I could get more hours if I did him a few favors. With the leering expression he wore when he said it, I have no doubt what kinds of favors he wants.

I've thought about telling Masen, but I'm not willing to risk his freedom. I'm fairly certain that if my husband and his temper got to Mike, he wouldn't walk away from it in one piece. And Mike would definitely press charges for assault. The price Masen would pay isn't worth it.

So, in the meantime, we do our best to cut corners. I've hitched a ride to work when I can, and we've had a lot of pasta nights and PB&J sandwiches.

I still haven't gone to the doctor, but it can wait. I'm not getting any less pregnant. We just can't afford it right now. But I'm doing what I remember from being pregnant with Sammy; I'm taking my vitamins, eating as well as I can on our budget, and trying to get enough rest. The fact that Masen and I aren't fighting is better for me, too. The stress and tension that have been around for so long have finally let up, and I almost feel like I can breathe again.

* * *

"Have a good day, baby," I yell to Sam as he jumps out of the car.

"You too, Mommy!" His smile is bright as he runs inside the school.

I giggle at his excitement and shift the car into drive. I don't make it even a mile down the road before the gauges on the dash go haywire. The engine finally dies, leaving me stranded in the road.

I close my eyes and bang my forehead on the steering wheel. "What now?" I groan. Flopping back in my seat, I hit the back of my head against the headrest. I stare at the headliner, seeing the food splatters from Sammy, the burn marks from Masen's cigarettes, and the sagging spots. They all show the age of this heap, but as much as we need a new car, we just can't afford it. We just keep patching this one, hoping things will eventually get better.

I grab my phone and call the shop, sure I need a tow.

"Cullen and Sons Automotive. This is Mac."

"Hey, Mac."

"Hey, Bella. What can I do for ya? I'm pretty sure Mase is over at the clubhouse."

"I don't need him. I actually need a tow."

"What are we looking at?"

"Well, the gauges went sideways, so I'm thinking alternator."

"Yeah, sounds like it. Are you in a safe spot?"

"Kind of. I'm in the right lane on Mesquite, near the post office. I'll wait on the sidewalk."

"Okay, give me about twenty minutes and I'll have someone there. Sit tight."

"I'm not going anywhere. Thanks, Mac"

"You got it, Bella."

Tracker shows up twenty-five minutes later, and in another twenty, we're pulling into the lot of Cullen Automotive. The yard isn't as busy as I thought it would be on a Friday morning, but I don't feel like making small talk with any of the guys. I quickly slip out of the tow truck's cab and head for the office, intending to wait for Masen to finish whatever he's doing at the clubhouse.

Esme is busy on the phone, so I make myself scarce and sit in the waiting area, watching the guys push the Honda into a bay.

"Hey, Bella." Edward is smiling as he walks over to me. "Heard the beast was back in here." He laughs at his own bad joke.

"Yeah, laugh it up." I smile but shake my head. "Masen is going to be pissed at me for bringing it here instead of home, though."

"Nah. It made sense to bring it here. It was closer than home, and we can get it done in like an hour. He'll be fine. And if he's not, I'll talk some sense into him."

"Thanks."

He hesitates, but as usual, he can't keep his thoughts to himself. "You two doin' okay?"

I nod, fidgeting with my shirt hem. "We are, actually." I meet his eyes. "It's been bumpy, but I think we're back on track."

"That's ... good." He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes, and for a brief moment, anger flashes in my chest at his hesitation. He lost the right to be concerned about me a very long time ago. But before I can address his reply, his attention is drawn to the window that looks out across the lot.

"What the fuck?" he says quietly.

"What?"

I glance outside, too, confused about what we're looking at until I spot my husband walking purposefully toward a scantily clad brunette. I'm not sure why Edward seems to be so upset until I see the woman practically throw herself at my husband.

I guess some things never change.

* * *

**A/N: Remember, you can come chat with (yell at ;p) me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Lots of love**

**~Sunshine **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Songs:**

**Sound of Madness, Shinedown  
****My Disaster, Seether  
****Car Crash, Three Days Grace  
****Come Together, Godsmack  
****Same Damn Life, Seether**

***Link to YouTube playlist is in chapter 1!**

* * *

**Edward**

Without a second thought, I push open the door, stomping down the steps and across the lot. My eyes are focused on my piece of shit brother and the trouble he's brought us.

"What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing, Masen?" I shove my brother's shoulders and turn to Gianna, Caius Volturi's nineteen-year-old daughter. "And you, sweetheart, need to get the hell out of here." I turn back to Masen and tighten my fists, resisting the urge to give him the beat down he deserves. "Explain. Now!" I demand through gritted teeth.

We're attracting a crowd, half the club hanging around outside the clubhouse, and Bella's made her way out of the shop, too. She's wearing an expression that's equal parts rage and hurt. But I don't have time to worry about her.

"Gianna," Masen says, keeping one eye on the unwelcome visitor and the other on his wife, who's standing with her arms crossed and her laser eyes on the teenager. "You need to go."

"But, Masen, I need—"

I reel around, getting in her face. "You _need_ to go," I say, pointing toward the gate at the exit. "If your father gets wind of you being here, it's going to cause a shitstorm for all of us."

She stares at me, defiance burning in her eyes, but she finally turns to leave. When she reaches her car, she calls out over the roof. "We're not done, Masen! I'll track you down somewhere." She climbs inside and slams the door, peeling out of the lot like her ass is on fire.

I turn back to my brother, but his eyes are focused on his wife. "I need to—"

I place my hand on his chest and shove him. "_You_ need to get your ass inside and tell me why the fuck the daughter of a rival club's president was here."

"But I—"

"Shut your fucking mouth, Mase," I growl, moving closer and dropping my voice. "You do _not_ want to do this in front of Bella."

His blue eyes burn with fire, and I see the moment he decides. When he tries to push past me, I push back, sending him stumbling into one of the parked cars. He's quickly on his feet again ... and it's on.

I'm not sure which one of us throws the first punch, but I know I'm landing more than he is. He manages to get in a shot at my jaw, but I land a hit to his kidney. The voices around us grow louder—Bella screaming for us to stop and the guys either trying to calm her down and hold her back or egg us on—as we edge closer to the clubhouse, fists still flying. Finally close enough to the building, I slam him up against the wall, my chest heaving.

"I said," I say, panting, "get your ass inside. I need to talk to you." He's looking at Bella, so I grab hold of his shirt with both hands and shove him back once more. "Enough, Mase! You fucked up again, and this time it's not just _your_ ass on the line."

He jerks away from me and stomps inside. I close my eyes and try to calm down, because I know Bella is marching straight toward me. I feel her before I hear her.

"Can someone tell me what the hell just happened? Who was that girl?"

"It's club business, Bella," I say as I turn around.

"Of course, it is," she mumbles as she crosses her arms again, looking toward the gate where Gianna drove away. "Well," she says, turning back to me, "when your brother is done with his timeout, tell him not to bother coming home. He can sleep at the precious clubhouse tonight."

She spins on her heel to storm back to the shop, but I grab her arm. "Don't be like that."

"Be like what? Pissed that yet _another_ skank put her hands on _my_ husband?" Tears fill her eyes, but the fire in them still blazes. "I'm done with all of it, Edward."

"Hey, we don't even know what she wanted. You're probably blowing this way out of proportion."

"Blowing it out of proportion? Are you kidding me right now? We both know there are only a handful of reasons a woman would _track down_ a man, and none of them are any good." Her voice lowers and cracks, all of the fight seeming to drain out of her. "I can't do it again. I've tried to be a good wife. I've forgiven him of so much, so many times, for our son's sake. But you have no idea how humiliating it is that everyone knows what he's been doing the last few years. Everybody feels sorry for me. They think I can't keep my husband happy, so he has to fuck around."

"I'm sure he—"

She shoves at my chest, screaming. "Stop making excuses for him!"

I grab her trembling hands, and I know it's taking everything in her not to go ballistic. I lower my voice. "Let me talk to him, okay? Figure out what that was all about." I cradle her cheek in my hand, my gut twisting when I see the pain in her eyes. "I know he's trying. He wants to work on shit with you, so if anything happened between those two, I'd bet my left nut it happened before."

She stares at the center of my chest. "I'm not so sure I have that much faith in him." She tilts her chin up and her teary eyes meet mine. "Why couldn't he be more like his big brother, huh?" She says it with a grin, like a joke, although I know it's anything but funny to her. "You were a lot of things, Edward, but you were always faithful when we were together."

I don't know what to say other than to whisper, "I'm sorry."

She pulls her hands from mine and wipes at her eyes. "Well, when you figure it out, have somebody call me."

I watch as she walks back to the waiting area of the shop. Curiously enough, Mom's standing at the window of the office, watching the scene play out, and I can't help but wonder what she's thinking. I pull my phone from my pocket. Time to call Pop and find out how he wants to handle Masen's latest fuck up. Whatever he did brought our enemy's daughter to our doorstep.

Volturi and his Desert Kingsmen MC have been gunning to bring his drugs into and through our town for years. So far, we've been able to keep him out, keep the things that go along with his brand of chaos away from us. But if he gets wind of one of ours messing with one of his, it will bring attention to our club, to our town, and we can't have that.

* * *

It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop. It's just the three of us—Pop, my brother, and me—seated around the table in the chapel. Masen is sitting across from me, and his eyes haven't left the tabletop since the door closed.

"And before today, when was the last time you were with her?" Pop is calm, level-headed, but I know his anger is simmering just beneath the surface.

"It's been a couple of months," he says, his gaze still lowered.

"Did she say what she wanted?"

"No," he says, his angry eyes meeting mine. "I didn't get a chance to find out."

Pop scrubs a hand over his face, clearly irritated with his son. "Are there _any_ decisions you've made in the last few months that haven't been made by your dick?"

"Look," Mase says in his defense, "it was just sex. I don't see how my personal business affects anyone else."

Pop's fist slams down on the table, and I'm worried for a second the guys in the main room heard. "I've had it, Mase! Everything you do comes back to this club. Everyone knows who you are, they know who you associate with, and they damn well know you shouldn't be screwing the daughter of a Kingsman. You don't think Caius is going to find out?"

My brother is blessedly silent. I'm not sure what Pop is likely to do if Masen speaks right now. I stay quiet, too, waiting to hear what our father decides.

"I think it's best if Masen takes a step back from the club for a little while to sort out his shit," Pop finally says.

"Are you fucking serious?" Masen yells as he rises to his feet. "I already don't get enough time on runs. It's been weeks since you sent me out on anything. How am I supposed to earn any extra money and get ahead if I can't—"

"And whose fucking fault is that?" Now Pop is on his feet, towering over Mase. "Sit your ass down," he says, pointing at Masen's seat. "You're the one who decided to fuck someone else's wife. You were on thin ice with me anyway over the shit with Tank's old lady."

"I thought we settled that shit when I got in the ring with Buzz."

"Well, I guess you could say _I'm_ not quite over it," Pop says as he sits.

"A step back?" I finally ask, crossing my arms and sitting back in my chair. "I didn't know that was an option." My eyes flash between them.

"Consider it a special circumstance," Pop says.

Masen remains quiet, his jaw tight and his own arms crossed.

I look back to my father, my brow raised. "So, Masen gets special treatment? You have to know that isn't gonna go over well with the rest of the guys."

"We're not going to announce it," Pop says pointedly.

I nod, choosing to stay silent.

"I think we can find some more work in the shop for him. Maybe keeping him busy will keep him out of trouble." Our father locks eyes with Masen, and some kind of silent conversation takes place.

"Is there something I'm missing?" I ask.

"No," Pop tells me. "But I think it's in the club's best interest if Masen takes a break to reassess his priorities. And I thought letting you in on it was best. Maybe having his older brother looking out for him—"

"You mean keeping tabs on me," Mase scoffs.

"Look, this is great and all that we're putting Mase in timeout," I say, using Bella's words, "but how are we going to handle it when Caius finds out his daughter was hooking up with one of us? You know he isn't just going to let that shit go."

"We just have to hope it flies under the radar and he doesn't care about his daughter's …extracurricular activities"—Pop turns to Masen—"because if he does, we've got trouble we don't need."

* * *

Looking in the mirror, I bring the damp washcloth to my lip. I hiss as I wipe away the dried blood from where Mase managed to get in a decent right hook yesterday. A knock sounds on my door, and I toss the washcloth on the edge of the sink and go to answer it. I'm greeted by Mac.

"Carl says we need to be ready to ride in an hour."

"Yeah. I'll be ready."

I put on a fresh tee and tuck my 9mm in the back waistband of my jeans, two more are placed in my holster over my shirt, and I strap my knife to my belt. Every time we make this run, I make sure I have enough firepower. Riding through the territory we do, I don't take any chances on not being armed.

I grab my cut and slip it on before walking out into the main room. As is typical for any Saturday morning, most of the guys are camped out on the sofas after a night of drinking, playing pool, and getting half-naked with a mouse in a not-so-dark corner before slipping away to one of their bedrooms down the hall.

I snag a mug from the shelf and fill it with coffee. I may not have partied last night like some of the guys, but if today's run is anything like the others we've made for García, the sun will nearly be down before we get back to the clubhouse. It'll be several hours of riding, and I can only hope the caffeine will keep me alert.

"So, what did your old man have to say about Mase?" Jazz asks quietly as he sidles up beside me.

I dump a ton of sugar in my cup and stir, turning around to lean against the counter. "That he needs to work out his shit."

"That's pretty obvious, E. I mean what are we gonna do about Volturi?"

I shrug. "We're gonna let it ride for now. Hope he doesn't care about what or _who_ his little girl does in her spare time. Mase says it's been a couple of months, so as long as he can keep his distance, we should be okay. If Caius hasn't found out by now, then hopefully he won't."

"You two ready?" Mac calls from near the door as he double checks his own holster.

"Yeah," I shout. "We're coming."

* * *

Our ride up to Casa Grande is uneventful. The morning is quiet, and so far, the seven of us haven't run into any problems. It takes Pop, Mac, Jazz, Rooster, Tracker, Hawk, and me a couple of hours to get there, but soon enough, we're meeting with our contact.

Our club has worked with Riley Biers for over a decade. His connections have helped us keep our friends armed for many years.

"Total of fifty this time," Riley says, unrolling one of the bundles.

Pop inspects them and deems them suitable. "It all looks good to me." He turns around to speak to us. "Load 'em up."

An envelope of cash is handed over and Pop shakes Riley's hand as we load the bedrolls filled with M214 Nano AKs onto our bikes. Once Riley climbs back into his SUV, we all fire up our engines and get back on the road.

A few hours later, we're at the drop point, unloading the shipment into García's hands.

Our relationship with him has been mutually beneficial. In return for the guns, he stays out of our town—operating his own drug trade in and out of Mexico—and protects our interests by running interference with Volturi. García's presence in the area stops Caius and his club from shipping the garbage he makes outside of Tucson into our territory or farther south.

Again, money is exchanged, hands are shaken, and a promise to deliver more firepower in a month is made. And as I suspected, we don't roll into town until the sun has nearly gone down. Everyone gets their cut of the cash, and I stash mine away in the safe in my room. I need a shower, a smoke, and, if I can find a willing house mouse, a fuck.

* * *

"What do you want for dinner tonight, Seth?" I'm wheeling the cart through the grocery store while my son runs ahead scouring the shelves for the garbage he only gets when he's with me. Angela gets pissy about it sometimes, but I only have him a couple of days a week. I figure it's my right as a father to teach my son the finer points of junk food.

"Um ..." His gaze travels to the end of the aisle and lands on the meat case. He turns to me, and his green eyes are wide and bright. "Steak!"

I grin and chuckle. "Steak, huh? You know, you've got some expensive taste for a person who can't pay for anything."

"Mom said the same thing when I asked for an Xbox One for my birthday. She said the PS4 I have is good enough." He turns to me, his eyes widening even further. "She just doesn't get it, Dad. I mean, I can't play _Halo 5_ on it. I _need_ to play that game, Dad!"

"I'll see what I can do."

He jumps up and wraps his thin arms around me. "Thanks, Dad!"

"Don't thank me yet. I still need to talk to your mom."

We walk the rest of the aisles, stocking up on chips, cookies, and the steak fries he wants with his ribeye. As we near the checkout, I spot a familiar face.

Bella is dealing with Sam as he tries to help unload their cart onto the belt. "Sammy, I really appreciate your help, baby," she says as she pulls the carton of eggs from his hands. "But please be careful. I don't want you to break anything."

"Sam!" Seth shouts when we line up behind them.

"Seth!" All thoughts of helping his mother are forgotten as he abandons a box of pasta on the conveyer and runs for his cousin.

"Those two are a menace at the store, aren't they?" I ask her.

"They are," she says with a tired smile as she continues to unload the cart.

"Mine talked me into steak tonight." She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I think I'm gonna have to put him to work at the shop to pay for his food," I tease.

"And they say it only gets worse with boys as they get older," she says more serious than joking.

The cashier continues to scan her items, and Bella has a watchful eye on the register total. It must reach a certain threshold, because her hand shoots out, stopping the cashier from scanning anything else. "That's it. I'm sorry, but I'll have to put the rest back." Her cheeks flame red, and I can see her hands shaking as she counts out her cash.

I knew things were tight for them, but I had no idea it was so bad she couldn't buy groceries.

"Come on, Sammy," Bella says as she stuffs her wallet into her bag, not looking up as she speaks. "I'm sorry, but I need to get going." I know she's talking to me, but her eyes stay on her son as he walks to her.

"Bye, Seth. Bye, Uncle Edward," Sam calls over his shoulder as Bella tugs him along.

Seth looks about as stunned as I feel. Before the cashier can load Bella's abandoned items into a cart to return it to the shelves, I stop her.

"Can you just go ahead and ring those up?"

"Sure thing," she says with a smile.

Bella has Sam in the car and her cart completely unloaded by the time I reach the parking lot. "You forgot a few things."

Her head falls and her shoulders slump before she turns to me. Her smile is tight, and her cheeks are still tinged with pink. "Thank you, Edward. You didn't need to do that."

I turn to my son, who's watching our interaction just a little too closely. "Here," I say, handing him the keys to the Chevy. "Go ahead and put our things in the trunk. I'll be right there."

"Sure thing, Dad." He scampers down a few spots to where the cage is parked, unlocking the trunk.

I turn back to Bella. "Why didn't you ask for help? That's what the rest of the family is here for, Bella. We help each other when things get hard."

"I don't want to be a burden to anyone."

"You'll never be a burden. You're my sister-in—"

"Please don't," she says softly, closing her eyes.

"What? What did I say?"

She swallows hard and keeps her eyes closed. "I've just been really emotional lately, and I can't handle hearing you say you're my family." Her pained eyes blink open. "I'm just dealing with a lot of shit right now, and being reminded of how I ended up where I am is just too much." She moves past me, toward her car door.

"What did I say, Bella?" I ask again.

With no answer, she starts her car and pulls out of her spot, driving away and leaving me to wonder what the fuck just happened.

* * *

**A/N: Poor, clueless man. LOL. So, any theories on what Gianna wanted? Thoughts on the club's business dealings? I'd love to hear what you think. **

**So, how are we feeling? I know I lost a few readers last week, and I'm sorry to see them go. But I was pretty up front that this would be a long and bumpy road and wouldn't be for everyone. For those of you still around, thanks for sticking with me. It's about to get a lot more interesting. ;) Next chapter we'll hear from Masen again. **

**Remember, you can come chat with (yell at ;p) me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Songs **

**Thistle & Weeds, Mumford & Sons  
****I Apologize, Five Finger Death Punch  
****Behind Blue Eyes, Limp Bizkit  
****Angels Fall, Breaking Benjamin**

***Link to YouTube playlist is in chapter 1**

* * *

****IMPORTANT NEWS AT THE BOTTOM!**PLEASE READ!****

****Also, FFN hasn't been sending out PM notification emails, it looks like for months. So, if you've recently sent me a PM through this site, I've only recently seen it. And it looks like review replies I've sent are probably the same. So, if you've sent me a PM or you're one of those who I've sent a reply, check your FFN inbox. **

* * *

**Masen**

"Where the hell have you been?" Granny Carmen's raspy voice grates on my nerves as I pour myself a cup of coffee. "I haven't seen you in days, Masen."

I turn around and rest against the counter. "Good morning to you, too, Gran."

"Well?" she asks as she reaches for the coffee to pour her own cup.

"I've been staying at the clubhouse. I just came by to get some of my stuff."

She raises a brow as she sips.

I groan, knowing she won't let me get away without a better explanation for my absence. I'm sure she realizes I waited to come by when I knew Bella would be at work. "Come on, Gran. You know shit's been a mess around here between Bella and me."

She sets her mug on the table and takes a seat before lighting a cigarette. "What did you do now?"

I widen my arms and raise my voice. "Why do you assume it was me?"

Again, she only raises a brow in reply.

I huff a breath, setting my mug on the counter and crossing my arms over my chest. "It was just a stupid misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?"

"Yeah, there was a girl who showed up at the shop and—"

"Jesus, Mase," she says, blowing smoke from her mouth.

"It's not like that."

She purses her lips and narrows her eyes.

"Well, not recently anyway. It was months ago."

She opens her mouth to speak, but I cut her off.

"And before you ask, yes, Bella and I talked about things a few weeks ago. She doesn't know specifics, but she knows there were others. And I promised her that all that shit is over and done."

"Then why are you sleeping at that godforsaken clubhouse?"

"She made it clear she doesn't want to see me right now, and until she's ready, I'm staying away." I lower my eyes to the floor. "I've hurt her enough. I don't need to press her on this and make her talk about this particular fuck up until she's ready."

She sighs, obviously disappointed with me. "Masen, you know I've never been Bella's biggest fan. She jumped from your brother's bed to yours and—"

"That's not true, and you know it. We didn't get together for like a year after her and E broke up!"

She waves me off. "That's neither here nor there. It's how I saw it. Even if it was a year, it was quick. That girl has been drama from day one. She almost sent him to jail for—"

I push off the counter. "I don't have to stand here and listen to this." I head toward the door, but Gran is hot on my heels.

"Masen, I'm sorry, okay? Yes, you two have had your problems, but you've always managed to get through them. You stepped up and made the best of things. Bella may not be my favorite person, but I know without a doubt you love that girl. Don't throw it away on a piece of ass. I couldn't stop your mother from derailing her life, and I'll be damned if I stand by and watch you do the same thing."

"I'm not my mother," I growl through gritted teeth.

"No, you're not. You watched what her bad choices did to her. She was lonely, desperate for attention. She got mixed up with the wrong people, and she ended up losing her life because of it. I don't want that to happen to you."

She reaches up and cradles my cheeks in her hands. "She would want you to be a good man, a good husband and father. She never had that. Your grandfather was a cruel man, Masen. He never treated me or your mother right. She started chasing Carlisle Cullen when she was seventeen, looking for affection, and when he didn't leave his wife for her, she spent the rest of her short life chasing anyone else who could make her feel good for a night or two. Learn from her. Don't repeat her mistakes."

I don't need my grandmother to tell me that my life is crumbling before my eyes, and I definitely don't need to be reminded how unhappy my mother's life was. I push her hands away and march out the door. I fumble with the strap of my brain bucket before firing up the engine of my bike, peeling out of the driveway toward the shop.

My life might be falling apart, but I still have bills to pay.

* * *

"What do you mean I can't work today? I need to work."

"Masen, there was a goddamn electrical fire," Esme says as she holds the phone to her ear.

"Come on, Es. It was small and we put it out in like five minutes."

"It was big enough to set off the alarm and bring the fire department. It's out of my hands. The electrician said the wiring needs to be replaced, and that will take them at least a couple of days. Then we have to wait for the inspections. It's just a giant clusterfuck right now." She shifts the phone away from her ear. "Look, I'm sorry. I don't like it any more than you do. But we have no electricity, which means no lifts, no power tools. We can't work until this is all fixed."

I turn around and slam my hand against the doorway as I walk through the door leading outside. Adding to my irritation, Pop and my brother are saddling up to go on a run.

"Where are you off to?" I ask Edward as I dig a smoke out of my pocket and lean against the railing along the edge of the lot.

"Chief Swan called. There's a friend who needs an escort."

I stare him down, and I can see in his eyes he's daring me to ask questions.

"We should be back by sundown," he continues. "Can you stick around and make sure Es doesn't need any help with cleaning up before we close the doors for a few days?"

"Sure," I say with a sardonic smile. "That's what I'm here for. Masen Cullen, janitor and babysitter extraordinaire." I flick the ash to the pavement.

"Do we have a problem?" Pop asks from the other side of Edward as he starts his bike.

"No. No problem at all." I drop my smoke to the pavement and snuff it out with my boot, looking up just in time to watch the two of them roll out of the lot as my wife drives in.

As Bella pulls into a parking spot across from me, I notice Sammy sitting in the backseat. He should be in school, so I'm immediately on alert.

"What's wrong?" I ask as I walk over to her car.

She rolls down her window. "He had an attack at school, and I think he's running a fever. I don't know what's wrong. I need to get him to the doctor, which means I need cash for the copay."

"Shit," I say softly. I peer into the backseat. Sammy looks listless, exhausted from his asthma attack. "You doing okay, buddy?"

"Yeah, Daddy," he mumbles.

I turn back to Bella. "Can't you just write a check?"

"With what money? I don't know if we have twenty dollars in our checking account, Mase. And he's probably going to need a prescription."

"Did you ask Gran?"

The look she gives me could cut steel.

"I'll take that as a no." I look over the top of the car toward the clubhouse. "I think I might have some cash here." I look down at her. "Give me a minute?"

"Yeah, just make it quick. They said they could see him if I brought him in right away."

I nod and take off in a sprint toward the clubhouse. Digging through the box on my dresser, I find fifty bucks and run it out to my wife.

"Call me and let me know what they say?"

"Yeah, I will."

I nod once and slap the top of her car, turning to walk back into the shop to see if Esme needs any help.

"Masen!" Bella shouts.

I turn back to her.

"Can you come home tonight?" She hesitates, looking in her rearview mirror at our son before turning back to me. "You know how he is when he's sick. He's going to want you tonight. And ... we should talk."

"I'll be there."

* * *

"Goodnight, Daddy." Sammy snuggles down into his blankets, closing his eyes.

"Night, Sammy." I kiss his forehead and turn out his light, closing his door as I step out into the hallway.

"He okay?" Bella asks as she bites at the side of her thumb.

"Yeah."

"You wanna ... " She tilts her head toward the living room. "We still need to talk."

I nod and follow behind her.

"Carmen is already in her room for the night," she says as I settle onto the sofa beside her.

I nod, but silence stretches between us for a long while. "I know you have questions," I finally say.

"I do." She plays with the frayed edge of her shorts, avoiding my eyes. "Who was she?" Her voice is small, already sounding defeated.

"Someone I met a few months ago."

"_Who_ was she? Edward wouldn't have reacted that way if she were just a nobody."

I sigh and rub a hand over my face. "She was the daughter of someone from another club," I reluctantly say.

"Another club? _Which_ club?"

I rest my head on the back of the sofa, looking at the ceiling. "The Kingsmen."

I'm not prepared for the slap she lands on my face. "You son of a bitch. How are you really that stupid?"

I clench my hands at my sides, resisting the urge to knock her one back. I have to remind myself she's only reacting. "In my defense," I growl, "I didn't know who she was until ... after."

"After you fucked her? Oh, that's rich." She flops back down on the sofa, as far against the other side as she can get. "It's no wonder Edward acted the way he did. Are you trying to start some kind of war over a stupid, little girl?"

"I wasn't thinking ... obviously."

"When?" she finally asks.

"It's been, like, two months ago ... maybe longer."

Her angry eyes meet mine. "Do you swear?"

"I promise, baby." I reach a hand toward her, but she pushes it away and jumps to her feet.

"Don't you fucking '_baby'_ me. Every time I turn around, your inability to keep your dick in your pants is thrown in my face." She stands over me, her hands clenched at her sides. "I'm _so_ _tired_ of the lies, Masen. You _promise_ me she's the last one?" she spits through gritted teeth.

"That's it. Nobody else, baby. No more lies. I promise you on our son—"

"Don't! Do _not_ bring Sammy into this."

I nod but remain silent.

"I really want to trust you, Masen, but shit like this makes it _really_ hard." Tears fill her eyes, and I open my arms to her, praying she'll accept.

I breathe a sigh of relief when she climbs into my lap, wrapping her arms around me and burying her face in my neck. "You promise there hasn't been—"

"Not since the day of Pop's party," I whisper. "I swear to you, this is it."

She nods against my neck, and I thank every higher deity there is for her forgiveness.

* * *

"What's going on out there?" I ask as I look out over the lot where Pop and Chief Swan are deep in conversation. My brother, the ever-loyal club VP, is standing next to Pop, privy to whatever news the good chief brings.

"Not sure," Tracker says as he reaches for a wrench. "Swan showed up yesterday when your Pop was out. Must've been important for him to come back today."

"Tracker," Esme calls from the office into the shop. "I have a tow for you."

"You got it, Esme," he says as he tosses his wrench in the roll around and walks toward her to grab the address.

As she passes off the sheet, her eyes are drawn to the lot, too. "When did he show up?"

"Just a little bit ago," Tracker answers. "Whatever it is, looks important. They haven't come out of their pow-wow since he showed."

Esme stands at the door, watching like she always does, forever the eyes and ears of this place.

"Hey, Es?" I yell, getting her attention.

"Yeah, Mase?"

"I was hoping you could schedule me on Saturday. I know I don't usually work it, but I could use the extra hours. Us being closed last week really put me in a bind."

"I'm sorry, Masen, but with the electrical work we had to have done, we have to limit the extra shifts for a few weeks."

"You've got to be kidding me," I murmur. "And the hits just keep coming."

I watch as Chief Swan gets back in his cruiser and drives out of the lot. Pop and Edward are still locked in a discussion when I walk over to them.

"What did he need?"

They exchange a look that tells me I may not get the full story.

"He was just giving us a heads up about a shipment coming through town that needs an unofficial escort up to Tucson," Pop says.

"And you still don't want me riding along?" I look at both of them, and neither of them will meet my eyes. I nod and drop my head. "Yeah, I get it. I'm still being punished."

Pop opens his mouth to reply. "Masen, you—"

"No, really, I understand." I look up and smile, though I'm feeling anything but okay with this. "I do. You gotta do what you think is best, Pop."

I turn to walk back to the shop, and my head pounds as I think about everything weighing down on me. I need to figure out how I'm going to bring in some extra cash. With Sammy's unexpected doctor bill, the car breaking down twice, our share of the lot rent due this week, and the new baby coming in a handful of months, I need a way to get it fast.

I fight with myself, knowing there's an easy way to earn some extra money, but I'm not sure if it's worth it. But then I think about what a chunk of cash could mean for Bella and me. If I manage to get my hands on enough, it could make all the difference. We could get ahead, maybe even get a place of our own. It would be more than worth the risk.

I pull my cell from my pocket and flip it around in my fingers. Sammy and Bella's faces smile at me from the lock screen, and I know I need to do this; I need to support my family. I scroll through my contacts and hover over a blocked number. Not thinking about it too long, I touch the screen and hold my breath.

"Hello?"

* * *

"And Mrs. Miller made the classroom a store, Daddy!" Sammy dips his paintbrush in the red paint and swirls it over the paper as he talks. "We walked around and shopped and paid for our stuff, just like a real store!" His excitement over his schoolwork makes me smile.

"That sounds really cool, buddy. What did you buy with your money?"

He looks up from his almost finished painting. "I bought fruit and that marshmallow cereal, and some pretend ice cream," he says with a smile. "I bought all the fun stuff Uncle Edward bought us last time."

"Uncle Edward?"

"Yeah, him and Seth were at the store when we were, and he brought a bag outside for us."

I wonder for a moment why the hell my brother is buying my family food, and then I realize it must be because Bella ran short. It's just another way I've let my family down. I can't even keep enough money in our accounts for us to buy goddamn groceries. And looking at my son, oblivious to the troubles we're facing, I know if I can't follow through with what I'm planning, things will only get worse. And then what will he think of me?

Desperate to feel good, I offer something I've been considering for a while now. "So, you want to come help me with great granddad's bike?"

"Really?" he asks, his voice full of hopeful excitement.

"Yeah, I think it's time to show you how it all works." It should also take my mind off what I'm planning to do.

He scrambles away from the table and runs out the door.

"Where is he going so fast?" Bella asks as she walks into the room.

I shrug. "I'm gonna show him Granddad's bike."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Why are you so surprised I want to teach my son something?"

"I'm not, really. I guess I just wasn't expecting you to do it while he was so young."

"Well, now is as good a time as any, isn't it?"

She nods once, and a small smile plays at the corner of her mouth. "It is." She walks over to me and places a soft kiss on my lips. "Have fun."

* * *

"It's gotta be nice and snug," I say as I hold my hand over his as he tightens a bolt.

"I'm strong, huh?"

"You sure are, kiddo." I smile and kiss the side of his head.

"You two about done out here?" Bella asks from the door. "It's almost bedtime, and you, young man, need a bath."

"But I just had one yesterday," Sam whines.

"I know," Bella says, smiling, as she walks through the door. "But that was yesterday."

He looks up at me, his brown eyes pleading. "Daaaddy?"

"Don't look at me, kid. I suggest you do what she says." I lower my voice and stage whisper. "She gets awfully grouchy when we don't listen."

"Fine," he growls.

He stomps toward the trailer, following his mother inside. I clean up the few tools we got out and cover the bike for the night. I check the time and realize I need to take off soon. I listen for Bella and Sam. The splashing and their laughter tell me they'll be occupied for a while.

"Hey, babe," I say, knocking on the bathroom door.

"Yeah?" Bella turns around with a smile on her face.

"I need to take off for a little while." Her eyes flash, and I know what's going through her head. She still doesn't really trust me. "I won't be gone for long."

She smiles slightly, but her heart isn't in it. "Yeah, okay."

I step into the room to kiss the top of her head and sneak a kiss onto Sam's cheek. "You be good for your mom, okay? Don't give her any trouble when it's time to go to bed."

"Okay, Daddy."

"I'll see you in the morning. And I'll see you"—I playfully slap Bella's ass—"later."

I pull my keys from my pocket and head for the door. Passing my cut hanging on the hook by the door, I snag it, too. Once outside, I fold the leather into a small bundle and stash it under the tarp covering the old bike, hiding it from view. If Bella knew I was going out this late when it wasn't club business, she would get the wrong idea. And there's _no way_ I can wear my cut where I'm going.

Jack's Roadside Tavern is pretty empty this time of the evening. My bike is the only two-wheeled vehicle in the lot. I park it out of the light, where it hopefully won't be recognized. Walking inside, I spot her immediately. Seated in a booth with her back to the door, Gianna is nursing a beer.

"I was beginning to wonder if you were gonna show," she says, looking up at me.

"I was the one who asked to see you," I remind her as I slide into the booth, keeping my eyes on the door. "So, did you bring it?"

"Do you think I'd be here if I didn't have it?"

"Hey, don't get all pissy, G. I don't know where all this hostility is coming from." I get the bartender's attention and point to Gianna's bottle before turning back to her. "Remember, you're the one who came to the shop looking for me. If anyone has a right to be pissed, it's me. So, what was so urgent you had to put both our lives at risk, huh?"

She focuses all her attention on the bottle in her hands, peeling the label from the glass.

"What is it?"

"I'm pregnant," she whispers.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." My heart starts pounding, and my stomach feels like it's trying too crawl its way up my throat. I pull at the collar of my shirt, trying to get more air.

"I wish I was."

"Are you even sure it's mine?"

Her eyes flash with anger. "Of course it's yours, asshole. You were the only one I was with that month."

The waitress drops my beer on the table, and I guzzle half of it down. "Shit." I close my eyes and breathe. My head feels like it's going to explode. "I wrapped it both times. How the _hell_ did this happen?"

"I don't know. I guess one broke. I need money to—"

"Do you really think I would be here, with _you_, if I had any money to give you?"

"I don't think it'll cost much. There's a clinic in Tucson I can go to."

"You don't think your father is going to find out if you do that anywhere near his town? He has eyes just about everywhere. You need to go up to Phoenix."

She nods. "I can probably get a friend to drive me up there." Her eyes finally meet mine. "But it's not cheap. I'll need at least five hundred for the clinic. My dad would know if I spent that much on anything. He keeps tabs on my bank account."

"Well, get in line. I have my own family to take care of first. How long can you wait?"

Her eyes narrow. "I'm coming up on eleven weeks, and they said it only gets more expensive the longer I wait. But I really don't want to wait any longer, Mase."

"I'll get it to you as soon as I have it." I tip back my bottle and drink the rest of my beer. "I'll have to take a day trip west to get rid of that stuff, and that means waiting until I can slip away for the day."

She places a gift bag on the table, and I snatch it up, folding over the top and tucking it under my arm. "I'll call you." I toss a five on the table and rise from the booth.

"You have a week, Masen," she calls as I walk toward the door.

I stomp back to her side. "We both know it'll probably take longer than a week. I need time to get rid of this shit."

"A week," she repeats, her eyes hard. "And I want five grand."

"That's fucking extortion!"

"It's only fair. I'm the one who risked her neck to grab that from Daddy's stash. And besides, I'm sure your wife would be interested to know about my pending clinic appointment."

I lunge at her, my hand just an inch from wrapping around her throat, but I pull it back, balling it into a fist at my side. I step closer, getting in her face. "If you go anywhere near my wife, I'll make you regret you brought your rancid pussy anywhere near me."

I storm out of the bar and head for my bike. If that bitch thinks she can threaten me, she has another thing coming. And with at least ten thousand dollars-worth of heroin under my arm, I need to get the fuck out of here before I do something to her that would get the cops called on my ass.

On auto pilot, I navigate the dark streets leading home while my mind wanders down its own dark path. I've turned into my mother, plain and simple. History has found a way to repeat itself, and I already know I'm going to hurt the woman I love ... and my son. Lies, cheating, and now drugs ... it's like I'm repeating all of Elizabeth's mistakes in one way or another, and I don't know if there's any way to make it right. All I know for sure is I need to sell the package I have as quickly as possible, then I can pay off Gianna and be rid of her, once and for all.

I'm ready to quit with the lies and cheating and put my ugly past behind me.

I park my bike in a dark corner of the self-storage place and use my key to get inside the gate. The storage unit is nearly bursting at the seams with all the shit we can't fit in the trailer. The pile of baby stuff in the corner will need to be brought out and cleaned up soon enough with the new one on its way. But that's not what I'm here for. Until I have a plan for moving this shit, I need to tuck it away. The last thing I need is for Bella or—God forbid—Sammy to find it.

Opening one of the deep drawers of the roll around toolbox, I pull the tools to the front and place the crumpled gift bag in the back. Sweat forms on my forehead, and my heart begins to race. I know what this means. Not only have I gotten into bed with the devil, so to speak, by contacting Gianna, but I've also betrayed my club. If they find out what I've done, I'll be kicked out, stripped of my cut, and worst of all, Edward will never speak to me again.

That's if Volturi doesn't find out first.

* * *

**A/N: Oh, Masen ... Nothing good can come from this, right? And I can only guess how you might be feeling about Bella right now. Let me hear it! **

**I know a lot of you are still waiting to hear about what the hell happened between Edward and Bella to break them up. It's coming, but not for a bit yet. But I do have some exciting news you may be interested in. **

**I'm donating a story to the Fandoms for Hope and Relief to benefit the victims of the Australian bushfires. I didn't want to announce it here until it was written, and while it still needs some tweaking and an edit, I finished it last week. If you donate to one of the approved charities, you're going to get the compilation ... which will include ...**

**Shift, a prequel to Clutch! **

**Now, I know what you're thinking. "Wait, I have to read a DIFFERENT story to get their backstory?!" No, the story of what broke up ExB will be included in Clutch, and you'll get that part of their story before the compilation is released, (coincidentally, it will mean an early update for that particular week) but the nitty-gritty details of their beginning all the way to the painful end will be what you get with Shift. The compilation will be released on or around April 5, and Shift will post to FFN some time after May 1. Please visit the Facebook group, Fandoms for Hope and Relief for more details on where and how to donate.**

**The Twific Fandom Awards are also happening right now, and I'm honored to say I'm nominated in nine categories! You guys are awesome! **

***All Time Fic: Dominion  
*****Drop Everything Fic: Dominion of My Heart  
*****Ficlette: Bittersweet Obsessions *and* The Bed I Made  
*****5ever Fic: Dominion of My Heart  
*****My Emotions: Dominion of My Heart *and* Moments in Time  
*****Out of This World Fic: Stasis  
*****Potential Best Seller: Forged By Fire  
*****Screener  
*****Veteran Author**

**Thank you so much to whomever nominated me! Giant squishy hugs to all of you! If you would like to vote for your favorites in round one—stories, writers, prereaders, betas, fangirls, banner makers, contest organizers, and fic pimps—visit twificfandomawards. blogspot. com, and be sure to remove the spaces. Click on the Vote tab, and vote for your three favorites in each category, the round one poll is open until 11:59 EST on 3/3! **

**Remember, you can come chat with (yell at ;p) me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Lots of love**

**~Sunshine **


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Songs**

**The Betrayal (Act I), Nickelback  
****Lost In The Echo, Linkin Park  
****By The Way, Hinder  
****Tragedy, Christina Perri **

***Link to YouTube playlist is in chapter 1!**

* * *

***A LOT of fiddling was had after jayhawkbb sent this back to me. Hundreds of extra words and many mistakes, I'm sure, are all on me. ;)**

* * *

**Bella**

"Damn, baby," Masen growls.

I moan into my pillow as he moves behind me. With our fingers laced together over my head, he has me trapped and completely at his mercy. Not that I mind.

It's been over a week since we cleared the air, and I finally feel like we're back on track. Masen spends most of his evenings at home, not at the clubhouse, and we're talking, _really_ talking. Things are ... good.

And mornings like this remind me how good it can be.

When my orgasm surges through me, I cry out into the pillow. My husband stills, holding tightly to me and groaning out his own release before collapsing on top of me.

"I told you it was a good idea to come back to bed after getting Sammy to school. That was a fucking _fantastic_ way to start the day." He kisses the side of my neck before he rolls off of me.

I stretch out like a cat in the sunshine. "Yeah, it was, wasn't it?" I curl onto my side and pull the edge of the sheet up next to my face, watching Masen walk around the room. When I see him gather his things, my smile falls.

"Do you have to leave already?" I ask. "I'm off today. I was hoping we could recharge and spend the rest of the day in bed."

He crawls across the bed and kisses me, his arms caging me against the mattress. He places another peck on my lips before he pulls away. "As much as I'd love to, I need to get to the shop. And I'll probably be late, too. Pop called for a meeting tonight." He stands up, grabbing his clothes.

The tattoo on his back, the horned skull with featherless wings, stares back at me. It's a visual reminder that I share him with the Devil's Outcasts, and I always will, whether I like it or not.

He disappears through the bedroom door, and moments later, the shower starts. I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, my hand drifting to my middle. I've not had much time to think about how this new baby will affect our lives, but I know we're in for some major changes.

I only hope we're ready for them.

* * *

I toss wet clothes into the dryer and turn the dial, pressing the start button. After starting the wash cycle on our sheets, I pick up the full basket of warm towels and head for the living room. As I walk through the kitchen, Masen is stuffing a bagel in his mouth.

"You sure that'll be enough? I could have fried an egg or something to put on it."

He swallows hard and shakes his head, reaching for his coffee mug. "Nah, this is fine."

"If you're sure."

"It's all good." He drinks what's left of his coffee and sets his mug in the sink. "Hey," he says as I walk past him toward the sofa, "I, uh ... I'm going out on a run tomorrow. I'll be gone early and won't be home until pretty late. So, if you need any help getting Sam to school or home, ask Gran. If she's not out with her friends, I'm sure she'd be willing to help."

"Yeah, okay." I perch on the edge of the sofa cushion and grab a towel from the basket to fold.

He walks over and hovers above me, surprising me by grasping my cheek in his hand and kissing me softly. "I love you," he says against my lips.

"Love you, too." I smile, and the corner of his own mouth lifts in reply.

"Everything I do is for us. You know that, right?" His eyes search mine, and what I see worries me. He looks so ... uncertain. And Masen is a lot of things, but uncertain isn't usually one of them.

"Yeah, baby. I do" It's my turn to hold his face in my hands. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He pulls away and stands. "I just wanted to tell you I love you." He gathers his keys and opens the door. "See you tonight."

I smile again, but as the screen door slaps closed, a feeling of unease creeps up my spine.

The day passes quickly, like every day off I have, and soon enough, it's time to head to the school to pick up Sam. But before I walk out the door, my phone rings. The caller ID flashes with a familiar number.

"Hey, Edward. What's up?"

"Hey, Bella. I need to ask you a huge favor. Is there any way you can pick up Seth when you go to get Sam?"

"Yeah, I can do that. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Angela and Ben are out of town for their anniversary or something, so Seth is with me the next few days. But a pipe burst in my kitchen. I'm close to having it fixed, and I really don't want to stop until it's done."

"I don't mind. What's one more?" I joke. "I'll drop him off on my way home."

"That's perfect. You're a lifesaver, Bella. Thank you."

I disconnect the call and head to the school. Sam is happy to have his cousin along, even for the short ride. When we pull up to Edward's tan stucco, single-story house, he's hauling an armload of crap to his trash bin.

"Dad!" Seth yells as he pushes his way out of my car.

"Hi, bud! Did you have a good day at school?" Edward drops his armload in the trash and waits for Seth to run to him. For a brief moment, my gut twists with something that feels like regret as I watch the two of them hug. Over the years, I've spent far too much time wondering what my life would be like if we'd never been split up. But looking back at my own son as he fights to get out of his seatbelt, I know if anything had happened differently so long ago, Sam wouldn't be in my life. And I just can't imagine a life without him.

"Uncle Edward!" Sam finally gets his seatbelt off, and he hops out as well.

"Guess we're staying for a minute," I say to myself as I cut the engine. I open the door and step out, watching the two boys tackle Edward onto his knees on the driveway. Judging by the wide smile on his face, he's not putting up much of a fight.

"Okay, you two. That's enough," I yell over their giggles, a smile on my face.

"Why don't you two go on in and grab a snack?" Edward ruffles Seth's hair and sends them on their way before standing and turning to me. "Thanks again for picking him up today. I really appreciate it."

"I didn't mind. Your place was on my way. And if you need me to pick him up tomorrow, I can. I have an early shift."

"Tomorrow?" he asks, his eyes full of confusion.

I step closer and lower my voice, always careful of nosey neighbors overhearing. "Mase told me you guys had a run tomorrow. He said it was an all-day thing."

He inhales and his jaw tightens. "Bella, I really appreciate the offer, but I won't need you to get him." His voice softens, and the look in his eyes tells me what he's going to say before he opens his mouth. "There's no run tomorrow. We don't have anything on the books for almost a week."

My lips smash into a thin line, and I blink back tears. "Of course. And I guess there's no meeting tonight either?" I ask with a rueful smile.

"No," he says softly.

Recollections of empty promises flash through my mind, and my stomach sinks. I was so hopeful, so eager to believe Masen, but now I just feel like a fool for thinking I could trust him. My skin is clammy, and my cheeks heat uncomfortably. I need to get out of here before I fall apart.

"Hey, um," I say as I take a few steps back, swallowing hard, "can Sammy stay here tonight? He'd love to have a boys' night with you guys."

"Of course, but, Bella, I—" He reaches for me, but I shake out of his grasp.

"I need to get home. Can you tell Sammy I'll be here with fresh clothes in the morning? I just—" I shake my head and wipe at my cheeks as the tears finally fall. "I need to go."

I get back in the car and shakily reach for the ignition.

Edward yanks open my car door. "Bella, please don't leave like this. I don't know if you're okay to drive. Stay until you calm down. I'll call Mase and see what's going on. Maybe he got the dates mixed up."

I look up at him, a man I once trusted with my heart. Even now he's trying to protect it. "We both know that isn't true."

He grips the edge of my door, reluctance written all over his face. "I really don't want you to leave like this."

"And I really don't want my son to see me like this."

He exhales a breath and nods. "Will you promise to call me later? Let me know you're okay?"

I stare blankly out the windshield. "I thought I was this morning." I smile through my tears. "But I guess I haven't really been okay in a long time." I look up at him and grasp the inner door handle. "I'll call you."

I drive home, unseeing. By the time I pull into our driveway, I'm completely numb. I somehow manage to get into the house, thanking a higher power Carmen is out for the day and not here to see me like this.

Slowly, I sit down on the sofa. My mind races with possible reasons Masen would lie to me, but I can only come to one logical conclusion; he's cheating on me again. His lies never stopped, and I'm the one who foolishly believed he would ever change. Every fissure in my heart that had started to heal splinters all over again.

Walking on shaky legs, I make my way to our room. I pull a duffel from the closet, tossing it on the bed. I turn to the dresser and start to pull things from his drawers, robotically placing them in the bag. Only the sound of a knock on the front door brings me from my haze.

Opening it, I'm faced with a ghost of fucks past, the same one who showed up at Cullen and Sons a few weeks ago. "What do you want?"

"I need to find Masen."

"Well, when you do, you can keep him." I move to close the door, but her words stop me dead in my tracks.

"I'm pregnant and need money from him. He told me he'd have it to me by now."

I pivot slowly, opening the door fully and meeting her eyes. "You're pregnant?"

"Don't worry. I'm not having it, but I can't get it taken care of without the money."

"Money? You came here for money?" I ask, still in a daze. I push open the door, suddenly needing fresh air, and stumble to one of the patio chairs. "God, I feel like I can't breathe."

"Look, I'm not after your husband. I honestly just need the cash."

I look up at her, standing on my doorstep in cut-offs and a skin-tight tank with no bra. She's tiny and perky, and all the things I'm not. She's the visual representation of every woman who's held my lying husband's attention for the last few years, and I have an overwhelming urge to gouge her eyes out, if only to see how Masen would react. Just _thinking_ his name makes my stomach roll. After all the promises he made me, just in the last week, I now know he hasn't changed a bit.

It's a painful realization.

"You came here for money?" I ask again, staring at her in disbelief and wondering why she thinks I might be able to help her, or why I would _want_ to. Her expression hardens as I stare, and I can no longer keep my emotions in check. I throw my head back and laugh. I cackle until tears are streaming from my eyes. Once I've gathered my wits, I wipe my eyes and sit up straight. "Honey, I couldn't buy groceries last week. What makes you think he has a dime to give you?"

She folds her arms across her chest and huffs a breath. "Look, we had an agreement. Will you just tell him I came by and he needs to call me?"

I stand and brush my hands across my ass as I walk toward her, chuckling. "Oh, I'll do more than that. I'll pack him a bag, and he can be your problem by sundown."

I push past her and march back into the house, a new determination settling in my bones. Gone is my careful packing of his belongings. No, now I'm shoving and stuffing. And when I run out of room in the duffel, I open the bedroom window and throw things through it. Clothes, shoes, a box of video games that was stashed in the corner of the closet. It all goes through the window and onto the ground outside.

I'm in a haze of red as I toss his stuff, unaware of how much time passes. The slamming of the front door barely registers in my head before Masen stomps into the bedroom.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

I continue ripping things from hangers, tossing them over my shoulder. "I had a visitor a little while ago," I say as I slide his shit from the top of the dresser into a box. "Seems like congratulations are in order"—I turn on my heel and meet his eyes—"Daddy."

"That bitch," he growls. "I told her not to—"

"Not to what? Come and talk to your poor, clueless wife?" I shove at his chest. "You promised me, you son of a bitch." I try to slap him, but he grabs hold of my hands.

"Stop, Bella. She wasn't supposed to come here. I was going to give her money and she was going to go away, and that was going to be the end of it."

"Is that supposed to make it better?" I scream. "No. I'm done!" I pull away from him and walk out of the bedroom. "I can't take another fucking thing. I forgave the cheating. I forgave you for being horrible to my son—"

He wrenches me back by the arm. "_Our_ son!"

"Shut up! I forgave all that, but you _lied_ to me ... _again_!" I pull away, and he releases me. I turn to face him. "You knew about that bitch being pregnant and didn't tell me. You kept it from me! And there's no fucking meeting tonight, and there's no run tomorrow. So, what is it? Are you meeting her later? Or is it someone else? Who are you hooking up with this time?"

"Jesus, no one! I'm not hooking up with anyone."

"Then tell me why you lied to me about tonight and tomorrow."

He stares me down, his jaw tightening. "I can't," he finally says.

I head back to the bedroom. "Then you can get the hell out of here. I can't even look at you right now."

"You aren't serious, Bella. I'm not—"

"Oh, yes, I am. You can go sleep at the clubhouse or in the office of the goddamn shop for all I care. Just don't go to your—" The words die on my tongue, realizing why he's here. "Edward called you, didn't he? He told you to come home."

"He called to chew me out and give me the third degree. He was worried about you, too."

"Well, I'm happy to hear somebody is." I snatch his overfilled duffel from the bed and turn, shoving it at his chest. "Here. I even packed for you. Just don't go to Edward's. Sammy is there tonight, and he doesn't need to see you until I figure out what to tell him."

He holds his bag in one hand, studying me. "You're serious?"

"As a fucking heart attack. I've given you more chances than you deserve, Masen. And you continue to lie to me." I choke on my words. "I'm done. I need you to leave. We can work out the details later, but right now?" My voice lowers to a broken whisper. "I can't stand the sight of you."

"I might have lied about what I was up to tonight and tomorrow, but it was to protect you." He reaches a hand toward my face. "I never meant—"

"Don't touch me."

He nods and takes a step back. "I'm gonna go, but once we've both cooled off and—"

I laugh humorlessly, tears gathering in my eyes. "You don't get it, do you? This is it. I said I'm done, and I meant it. I'm out of chances to give you, Masen."

The tick of the clock is the only sound in the room as we stare at each other. It becomes too painful to look at him, so I drop my gaze to the floor. It's so quiet, I can hear the squeak of the leather as he hoists the strap of the duffel over his shoulder.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Bella," he whispers.

"Yeah," I say nodding, looking up to meet his tear-filled eyes with my own. "Me too."

He turns and walks through the front door, the screen slamming closed behind him, making me flinch. The sound of his bike firing up comes moments later, but he doesn't leave. The motor idles for several minutes before he finally rolls out. It's a slow departure, the final threads that were holding us together snapping as he pulls away. When the sound of his bike fades into the distance, I collapse onto the floor and cry.

* * *

My sleep-addled brain hardly comprehends Carmen arriving home some time after dark. Her questions about her grandson and his whereabouts and bitching about Masen's things being strewn all over the yard are too much, so I ignore them. My head aches from all the crying I've done, and her grating voice only makes it worse. I climb onto the sofa and pull the crocheted afghan over my head in an attempt to block her out as I drift back to a restless seep.

Hours later, loud banging rings in my ears. I burrow down deeper into the softness beneath me, trying my best to ignore the sound. When it continues, though, I blink my eyes open. I'm still wrapped in the blanket, and my face is pointed into the back cushions.

"Bella!" Edward's voice calls through the door. "I know you're in there. Open the door."

I reluctantly roll over and sit up, rubbing my face in an attempt to wake up. Rising on unsteady legs, I walk toward the door and open it, facing my brother-in-law.

"What?" I rasp.

"Jesus, you look like shit."

"Had a rough night, I guess." I step away from the door. "Come on in. I need to make some coffee."

He steps inside and it suddenly occurs to me that it's morning. "Shit. Sammy." I stop in my tracks and spin around. "I'm sorry, Edward. I was so upset last night I didn't even think about setting an alarm. Did he get to school okay? Was he upset I didn't show?"

"He was fine. I had some smaller clothes of Seth's he wore to school, and I told him you called to tell me you weren't feeling well. He was a little confused, but he was fine."

"Thank you." I turn back to walk to the kitchen.

"Don't worry about it. Have you heard from Mase?"

I reach into the cabinet for the canister of coffee and go through the motions of making a pot. "No," I answer simply.

"When did you see him last?"

"Well, let's see," I say as I fill the carafe with water. "After I left your house, it was what? Three? I came home and decided my asshole husband needed to find other accommodations for the night, so I started packing a bag for him. Then that skank showed up on my doorstep and told me she needed money to get an abortion."

"Shit," he whispers.

"So, I decided to be a little more thorough in my packing efforts. He showed up sometime after I started chucking his shit out the window, and I sent him on his way." Facing him again, I shrug. "I have no idea what time he left here. I assumed he would go to the clubhouse."

"No," he says, shaking his head. "When I couldn't get him on his cell this morning, I called around. He never showed up there last night."

"Well, you seemed to know who that woman was, so I suggest giving her a call."

"What woman?"

"That one who showed up a couple weeks ago at the shop. The one he said was associated with the Kingsmen."

"Goddamn him!" He pulls his cell from his pocket and storms out the door. He's gone long enough for the coffee to finish brewing and for me to make some toast. I'm standing at the sink, looking out the window as I sip from my mug when he walks back inside.

"Bella," he calls out. "I know it probably doesn't make a difference, but you know that girl was from a while back, right?"

"I do," I say as I look at him. "And you're right; it doesn't make any difference. I'm done, Edward. He's used every last chance I had to give." Tears I thought I'd run out of spill over my lashes and down my cheeks. "I can't do it anymore."

I hang my head and cry, and in an instant, Edward is at my side, his comforting arms wrapped around me. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I have no idea what he's thinking."

My arms go around his waist, and I bury my face in his chest. "I don't know what I'm gonna tell Sammy. I don't know what I'm going to do about ... " I begin to cry harder.

"About what, hon?"

"I'm pregnant," I whisper. I look up into Edward's shining, green eyes. "I'm pregnant, and I don't know what I'm gonna do."

"Shh." He pulls me closer and kisses the top of my head. "Does Mase know?"

I nod against his chest. "I told him a few weeks ago. What am I gonna do, Edward?" I mumble.

"Hey." He tilts my chin up and meets my eyes. "You'll figure it out. You always do."

"Well, isn't this just what I want to see first thing in the morning?" Carmen walks past us toward the coffee pot. "This the reason for the mess I found outside when I got home last night?" she asks us.

I pull myself from Edward's arms, crossing my own over my chest, holding the fractured pieces of myself together. "No. And it's none of your business, either."

"None of my business?" She tilts her head back and laughs. "Oh, honey, it's all my business. This is my house, and I have every right to know what's going on in it."

Hanging my head, I know she's right. I take a deep breath, knowing what I'm about to say will cause a fight. "I kicked him out last night."

She's silent, and that's far worse than her yelling at me like I'd expected. "You kicked out _my_ grandson from _my_ home without consulting _me_?"

I raise my head and meet her steely gaze. "I did. He's lied to me for the last time."

Her eyes flash between Edward and me. "I'll tell ya what," she says as she slowly steps toward me. "I'm going to take up my friend's offer of an extended trip to Vegas. I might be gone for a week or two, I'm not sure." She steps closer, her face inches from mine. "You take that time to figure out what's going on, because the last time I checked, I offered my home, my _grandson's_ home to you when you married him. Just remember that."

As I look into the cold eyes of the woman who could so easily send my son and me packing, I swallow down the lump in my throat. Only the feel of Edward's reassuring hand on my shoulder keeps me from falling apart.

"She's right, Carmen," Edward says, "it isn't any of your business. This is between Bella and Masen ... no one else."

Carmen's eyes flash to Edward, and she raises a brow. "We'll see."

With that, she walks from the kitchen and disappears into her room, leaving me to wonder what the future holds for me and my kids.

* * *

**A/N: I'd love to hear what you think about this one. Are they really through? Do you trust Carmen not to toss Bella and Sam out on the streets? What is Bella going to do now? **

**You still have time to donate to the Fandoms for Hope and Relief fundraiser to get a copy of Shift! And in case there was any confusion, it WILL be posted to my FFN profile after the waiting period is over, which will be after May 1, 2020. I'm also thinking about working on some extra "post ExB" chapters if there is any interest in reading about how Bella ended up with Masen. So, if that sounds intriguing, let me know. **

**Remember, you can come chat with (yell at ;p) me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Songs**

**Hollow, Breaking Benjamin  
****Heart of Stone, Iko  
****The End, Pearl Jam  
****Happier, Marshmello & Bastille**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1! **

* * *

***Sooo much fiddling took place with this after jayhawkbb sent it back to me. All mistakes are mine!**

* * *

**Shared with permission, this beautiful poem was left as a review of a previous chapter by Rebadams7. I think it perfectly sums up how Bella has been feeling. Thank you, Reb! Xoxo**

I can live with little and smile  
I have my heart and I love my child  
I don't need riches to walk my mile  
I call for just trust to make it while

You stand on and wind a tale  
Can I believe or just turn pale  
A lesson learned on thin ground  
Chances are slipping  
You've Been out of bounds

I can live with little and smile  
I have my heart and I love my child  
I don't need riches to walk my mile  
I call for just trust to make it while

One more time to believe  
One more heat  
Or over I grieve  
What is and what will be  
It's up to you  
And me to see

I can live with little and smile  
I have my heart and I love my child  
I don't need riches to walk my mile  
I call for just trust to make it while

~Rebadams7

* * *

**Bella**

When Masen shows up on my doorstep a few days later, his nose busted and his eye bruised, I don't ask questions. I merely step aside and let him in, disappearing into my bedroom so he can spend time with Sammy.

All week, Masen comes by to help him with homework and to work on the old bike together. He stays long enough to tuck Sam into bed, but he isn't here when we wake up. It doesn't take long for Sam to start asking why his daddy isn't here in the mornings. When Masen calls to wish him a good day at school, his questions are so insistent, I have to leave the room for a moment.

Hearing him promise to be good and beg his father to come home tears me up inside. It's a pain I wasn't expecting.

* * *

"Bella, I need to take off a little early," Mike says as he reaches the front of the store.

I look him up and down. He's changed out of his uniform and into a _different_ polo and pair of chinos. "Where are you going? Got a hot date?" I ask with a raised brow.

"Yes, and I promised I'd meet her by nine. So, I'm leaving a little early. Do you think you can close up tonight?"

I look around the vacant store and back to him. "I think I can manage."

"Great." He digs through his pocket and hands his keys to me. "Here. You know how to set the alarm. You've seen me do it a hundred times."

"Yeah, I got this."

"Thanks, Bella."

I watch as he walks toward the door and can't stop myself from commenting. "Don't forget to wrap it!" I yell, snickering when his scowling face turns back to me.

"Thanks for the tip." He rushes through the door, and I'm left alone to watch the last fifteen minutes of my shift tick by.

In no time at all, I'm locking the front door of the store and heading to my car. I'm fumbling through my bag searching for my keys when an odd sound puts me on alert. The ping of skittering gravel echoes from the shadows against the building, and I furiously dig through my things for my can of pepper spray. But before I can find it, I'm yanked by the arm and thrown up against the side of the building.

"You Mase Cullen's old lady?"

"Let me go!" I struggle against the man's hold, but he pushes me harder into the wall. His rough, calloused fingers grip my chin.

"You give that fucker a message." His breath is rancid, and I fight to turn my face away from him. "Tell him the Kingsmen don't take kindly to their enemies fucking with their women." He pulls back and punches me low in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me as a sharp pain shoots through my abdomen. "You tell him next time it'll be _his_ kid on the receiving end of my fist."

He loosens his hold on me, but not before striking me one last time. I fall to my knees, gasping for breath. I glance up and watch as the man stalks away toward his bike. The light of a nearby streetlight glows, and the colors and rockers of the man's cut are illuminated in a brief flash. Before I can process what I see, another pain sears through me. The pain is intense, and I know right away something is horribly wrong. With a trembling hand, I blindly search my bag for my phone. When my fingers brush over it, I breathe a shaky sigh of relief and pull it out.

Unsure if I can face Masen right now, I call the only other person who has ever made me feel safe.

"_Hey, Bella. What's up?"_

"Edward," I croak. "Help."

* * *

My eyes blink open, and I look around the room through sleep-blurred vision. Edward is sitting in a chair beside my bed, his arms crossed over his chest and his chin tilted down, sleeping.

"Hey," I rasp.

He stirs, his head shooting up and his eyes meeting mine. "Hey, you. How are you feeling?" He leans forward and takes my hand in his.

"Sore. Tired." The beeps and hisses of medical equipment sound all around me. "Am I in recovery?"

"Yeah. They said once you woke up and were alert, they'd release you."

"It's done?" I ask, my voice small.

"Yeah, B. It's done. Do you remember what the doctor said before they took you to surgery?"

I nod and look down at our clasped hands. "Yeah. She said the punches were hard enough to hurt the baby. She couldn't find a heartbeat," I whisper. I raise my eyes to his. "And since it was a trauma, the D&C was the best option."

He cups my cheek. "I'm sorry, Bella. I don't even know—"

"Yeah, me neither." I look down, unable to hold his gaze. My emotions are all over the place, and I don't want Edward to see just how much of a mess I am inside. I'm sad, angry ... numb. But the strongest emotion I feel is guilt. Because even though I've lost my baby, I can't help but feel just a little bit of relief knowing he or she won't have to be born into the shitshow my life has become. "Does he know?"

"He knows you were taken to surgery, but I don't think anyone else knows about the baby."

"It's probably just as well for now."

"Do you remember anything about who attacked you?" I nod but remain silent. "Who was it, Bella?"

"I don't want to tell you," I say softly.

"Why not? Whoever it was deserves to be punished for what they did to you."

"I don't want to tell you because it'll only get someone else hurt."

He leans back in his chair and breathes out a heavy sigh. "I need you to tell me."

"It was one of the Kingsmen," I whisper.

He exhales, his breath seeming to fill the room. "Did you get a good look at him?"

"It was dark, but he had light hair. His cut had a crowned skull on the back, so I'm sure it was one of them."

He gently tugs on my hand. "Hey," he says softly, bringing my eyes to his. "It'll be taken care of, okay? If not by me, I know Masen won't let this shit slide."

I laugh humorlessly. "Oh, he's done enough."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm pretty sure this was retaliation. The guy said something about them not taking too kindly to their women being fucked with." I turn to Edward with tears welling in my eyes. "I think he threatened Sammy, too."

"Bella," he says as he awkwardly gathers me into his arms, "we won't let anything happen to him. The club will make sure you're protected. Both of you."

My hand falls to my lower abdomen, the pain and guilt welling up inside me. "Yeah. Just not soon enough for _all_ of us," I whisper.

* * *

Once I'm released, an orderly helps me into a wheelchair and pushes me down the hallway, insisting that it's hospital procedure. As we pass the waiting room, I'm met with the sight of nearly the entire chapter of the club—Pop, Tank, Mac, Jazz, _everyone—_crammed into the room. When Masen sees me, he shoves his way through the crowd.

"Bella? Baby? Are you okay?" He rushes toward me, but Edward grabs him by the arm.

"Not now, Mase."

My husband shakes him off. "What do you mean _not now_? My wife was _attacked_. Excuse the fuck outta me for being concerned."

I ask the orderly to stop, and I turn back to meet Edward's eyes. "Can you drive me home?"

He nods.

"No, Bella! I'm driving you home." Masen's outburst is loud enough to draw the attention of almost everyone on the floor. He tries to walk toward me, but several hands reach out and stop him.

He fights against them, and I ask the orderly to get me to the exit as quickly as possible. Edward rushes past me with the promise to bring the car around front. As I'm pushed down the hall, Masen's shouted pleas intensify, until finally the noise fades when we reach the elevator. The last thing I see before the doors close is Masen fighting against his club brothers' hold as he tries to get to me.

* * *

Esme dropped Sam back at home this morning, which gave me an entire day to rest after being released from the hospital. It also gave me time to think. And at some point between my bouts of tears, I came the the realization that there's no point in holding any resentment in my heart for Masen. It's over and done, and in the end, being angry with him would do nothing but hurt our son.

Besides, I've been angry for too long, and I'm too tired to hold onto it any longer. I'm ready to move past it all. And looking down at my son as he plays with his Legos, I know I'm doing the right thing.

"Did you have fun at Pop and Nana's?" I ask from my nest on the sofa.

"I did. Seth came over too, and we had pizza and watched a movie, and I got to stay up till eleven!" he says with wide eyes.

"Eleven? Wow. That's way past your bedtime, kiddo." I smile at his grinning face.

"I know." His grin falls. "Nana told me you had to go to the doctor, and that when I got home, I had to be a real good boy. Why did you have to go to a doctor?"

My smile morphs into one of sadness. "I got hurt, and they had to fix me."

"Oh."

"So, if you can help me by being a good boy, I'm sure I'll be feeling better in no time."

He opens his mouth to reply, but a knock on the door interrupts.

"Don't forget to look and see who it is," I say as he scurries toward the door.

He peeks through the curtain. "It's Daddy!" As fast as his little fingers can move, he unlocks the door and opens it. "Daddy!" He wraps his tiny arms around Masen, and my heart aches from watching them. "Did you come to see Mommy?"

"I came to see both of you." He walks inside, looking as lost as I feel about how to handle this.

"Sit," I say, patting the cushion beside me as I sit up and curl into the corner of the sofa. "I'm not up to moving, so you'll just have to put up with my presence while you visit."

He nods as he lowers himself to the cushion. "Thanks," he murmurs.

Sam climbs into his lap and talks about his visit with his grandparents, and Masen dutifully listens. When Sammy is distracted by a friend knocking on the door, Mase and I are left alone for a moment.

He clears his throat. "I finally got Edward to tell me what happened, since you wouldn't talk to me yesterday."

"I'm sorry. I just ... couldn't."

He nods. "I understand." His voice drops. "I'm so fucking sorry about the baby, Bella."

"Yeah, me too," I say softly as my fingers toy with the worn edge of my blanket. I remain silent, unsure what else there is to say.

"I want you to know I'm going to deal with this." He turns to fully face me. "I don't want you to worry about you or Sam. This is my mess, and I'm going to clean it up."

I reach for his hand, and he willingly gives it. "Don't. Please. Go to the club and let them handle this. Your dad is probably already planning how to deal with it. Even if you and I can't ..." I shake my head, swallowing down the tears threatening to escape. "I don't want to see you get hurt."

"No, Bella," he says, his jaw tight, "that son of a bitch hurt you ... our—" He shakes his head. "No, I'm going to take care of it."

"Please don't." I squeeze his hand. "For Sam."

"I'm going to fix this," he vows.

Before I can protest, Sammy comes bounding back into the room and climbs back onto Masen's lap. "Can we watch a movie together?" he asks both of us. "When I don't feel good, watching a movie always helps me feel better."

I smile at his suggestion. "Sure, baby. You pick."

When the screen lights with the opening scenes of _Toy Story_, Sam is still curled on Masen's lap, and as Buzz makes his on-screen appearance, I can't help but watch them, snuggled together and completely oblivious to me. A warmth fills me, knowing that even though Masen and I may not be able to work out our problems, he will always be Sam's father, always be a part of my life in one way or another. When he's present, when he's making the effort, he's a great dad. I scoot closer to them and rest my head on Masen's shoulder. No, we may not be able to work out our problems, but we'll always be connected by our son ... a family— something neither of us really had growing up and fought so hard to keep, even when things were falling apart. Moments like this—sitting together, watching some silly kids movie with our son between us—won't be in our future, so I soak it up, if only for the memory.

Once the credits roll, Masen helps Sam with his bath. I listen from my spot on the sofa and laugh when the splashing and laughter get too loud. Bath time has always been my territory, so listening to him fight with Sam about washing all his stinky bits is amusing.

When Sam is dressed for bed, Masen tells him to pick a book for his bedtime story. Listening to the deep cadence of Masen's voice is like a magnet, and I find myself walking toward Sam's room. Standing in the hallway, I listen.

"Will you be back tomorrow to read me a story, Daddy?"

"I'll try, okay?"

"'Kay."

"Don't give your mom any trouble, okay? I'm gonna need you to be a big help since she doesn't feel good."

"I will be, Daddy. I'll be the biggest help."

"Good. That's what I want to hear."

I hear the bed springs creak as Masen stands up.

"Why aren't you sleeping here?" Sam asks.

"I don't want you to worry about that right now. When your mom is feeling better, we'll all sit down and have a talk, okay? But for now, I'll be by as much as I can to see you."

"And Mommy?"

"And Mommy, too."

I peek around the corner and watch as Masen kisses Sam's forehead before wrapping him in a hug.

"I love you so much. You are going to grow up to do great things, be so much better than me. Do you know that?"

Sam pulls back with a smile and wide eyes. "I'm gonna be like you?"

"No, buddy. So much better than me. You keep taking care of your mom. You always have to take good care of the people you love. That's what makes a good man. That's the most important thing in life. You gotta love your family ... protect them."

"I can do that."

"Good." He kisses Sam on the nose, making him laugh. "Now, it's time to sleep." He reaches to turn off the lamp. "Goodnight, Sam. I'll try to get here to see you tomorrow."

"Night, Daddy."

When the room falls into darkness, I move away from the door and walk toward the kitchen. I reach for a glass and fill it from the tap. Masen's heavy footsteps shuffle down the hallway toward me.

"I guess I'm gonna take off."

"Yeah," I say, turning to face him. "Thanks for coming by tonight. It means a lot to Sam ... and to me."

He steps toward me, and my hands flex with the need to reach for him, to fall into the familiar comfort I've always found in his arms. He must sense it, because he stops just a breath away from me.

"Can I not even hold you?" he asks, his voice lowering into a whisper. "Please?"

The pain in his eyes, the regret I see in them makes me step toward him. I wrap my arms around his waist, and his go around me, holding my head to his chest.

"I'm sorry about the baby," he whispers. "If I—"

"No. No _if onlys_, please. It's too late for that," I say softly.

We stand like that for a long time, holding on to one another, quietly mourning our losses; our baby, our marriage, the trust I once had in him.

We've lost so much.

"I think I'll always love you," he whispers. "The first day I saw you, I knew you were something special. I've always kicked myself for not having the balls to be the first one to talk to you. Watching you with my brother was ... it was fucking torture. And when he lost you, I waited. I knew you wouldn't want to have anything to do with me. I knew I reminded you of what you lost with him. And even when you agreed to go out with me, I knew I was second best."

"You weren't—"

"I was. And I was okay with that. He lost you, but I always thought I was the luckiest bastard to get to keep you. And then we made that amazing little boy sleeping in the other room."

I smile despite myself as tears stream down my cheeks.

"I know what I'm losing, Bella. And I think it just might kill me."

I squeeze him tighter as I cry into his chest.

"I will never be able to apologize enough for the hell I've put you through the last few years. I _know_ I fucked up." His voice is raspy, and I know without looking he's shedding a few of his own tears. "I know you can't forgive me."

"You'll always be part of my life, Mase," I whisper, looking up at him. His blue eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I want to tell him I forgive him, that I'll put everything behind us and try to make it work for our son's sake ... but I can't. He's hurt me too much. "Your son adores you, and I know how much you love him."

"I do. Almost as much as I love his mother."

"Don't. Please. I—"

"I know. I'm sorry. And I'll be as much a part of his life as you want me to be."

I shake my head. "I'll never keep you from him."

"Thank you," he whispers. His hand moves to smooth my hair from my face. "God, I fucked up." His eyes search mine. "I love you, Bella. I'm sorry for all the hurt I've caused you."

He moves in slowly, allowing me plenty of time to tell him no, and when his lips finally touch mine, they're careful and soft, so much like the kisses we shared early in our relationship. Tinged with pain and regret, it is a kiss goodbye. And as painful as it is, I allow it.

Reluctantly, he pulls away, only to press another kiss to my forehead. "I'm sorry," he murmurs against my skin. "For everything."

"I know."

He releases me and wipes at his eyes, tucking away his emotions as he moves toward the door. "I'll call you tomorrow to figure out some kind of visitation or something. And don't worry about Gran. E told me what she said to you, that you might be worried about what she'll do, but I won't let her send you and Sammy away. This is your home as long as you need it. I'll stay at the clubhouse for now until we figure out the rest. I know we can't afford to do anything official yet, but—"

"Hey," I call out. "It's okay. We'll figure it out." I smile when he turns to face me. "We always do, right?"

"Yeah, we always do."

He walks through the door and I follow right behind him, my arms wrapped around my middle. He throws his leg over his bike, strapping on his helmet. When he flips the ignition switch, the engine fires up.

"You and Sam will always be the best part of my life."

Tears well in my eyes. "I know," I say over the sound of the bike. "And I want you to know, I love you too, Masen. I've loved you since I was eighteen. But I can't—"

"I know, beautiful. And I'm smart enough to know if I ever want to see you smile again, I need to let you go. But I don't know how in the hell I'm supposed to do that." He shakes his head as he puts on his gloves. He looks back up at me, a sad smile on his face. "Just ... be happy, Bella. That's all I want," he calls out over the engine.

As tears stream down my cheeks, I watch as he backs out of the driveway. I raise a hand to wave, whispering my own goodbye. "Be safe."

* * *

**A/N: This was a tough chapter for me to write, for a few reasons. I'm not gonna lie, I had to grab a tissue as I wrote it, and that's never happened to me. So, what do you think? What do you think is next for all of them? **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I have a feeling this chapter might spark quite a discussion. ;) I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine**


	9. Chapter 9

**The fandom family lost a treasure on Sunday afternoon. FangirlinGranma Dee Creston, a beautiful soul who always had a kind, encouraging word for authors and virtual hugs for everyone, passed away. She was a true fangirl who was the biggest cheerleader for so many of our authors. I'll miss her and her positivity and her *giggling*, happy reviews. I plan to write something fluffy and fun in her honor, so stay tuned. Her presence in the world and this fandom will be greatly missed.**

**{GIANT GRANMA HUGS AND SMOOCHES}**

* * *

*****With the state of the world being what it is, I would be remiss not to warn you that this is a heavy chapter. If you're in need of a lighthearted read, this is not it. :( **

*****I do have a happy and fun announcement at the bottom, past the asterisks!*****

* * *

**Chapter 9**

**Songs **

**Little Lion Man, Mumford & Sons  
****Right Left Wrong, Three Days Grace  
****Second Chance, Shinedown  
****Drawbar, Linkin Park  
****Ashes of Eden, Breaking Benjamin**

* * *

*****Soooo much fiddling happened with this one after I got it back. All mistakes are mine.**

* * *

**Edward**

Smoke fills the chapel as we all sit around the table, tossing out ideas about how to handle Bella's attack and speculating about who it might have been. Mac rattles off a short list of the Kingsmen's enforcers, but I stop him.

"No," I say, flicking the ash from my cigarette into the ashtray on the tabletop. "She said the guy had light hair. It had to be Caius. He's the only one I can think of who has light hair."

"We can't roll into their territory and retaliate against the wrong guy. We need to be sure, especially if we suspect it was Caius." Pop sits back in his chair and rubs a hand over his face. "Going after him would start something I'm not sure we're ready to deal with."

"What exactly did the guy say to Bella?" Jazz asks.

"That they didn't like their women being fucked with, and she's pretty sure he threatened Sam," I reply. My eyes roam around the table, meeting each and every pair staring back at me. "And we all know we aren't going to let that happen."

"No, we're not," Pop assures. "But there's got to be a reason he went after Bella." He turns to me. "And he said fucked with, not fucked." He looks back to the rest of the guys. "I think this is about more than Mase getting his dick wet. I can't see Volturi going after a woman over a fuck, no matter who it is. No, there's gotta be more to it."

Moments pass, all of us deep in thought, before Pop speaks. "Has anyone seen or heard from Gianna since she showed up on Mase's doorstep?"

Everyone shakes their heads, murmuring a no.

Hawk clears his throat from his spot at the table. "I love Mase as much as the next guy, but do we think it's possible he went after Gianna for showing up at their place?"

Pop's gaze falls to his his fingers as they daily trace along the wood grain of the tabletop, lost in thought. "If he did, it would make sense that Caius would threaten Bella and Sam," he finally says, his voice low.

Everyone else nods in agreement while I just sit silently. I find it hard to believe my brother would go after a woman, regardless of what she'd done, and looking at my father, I think he feels the same.

"Tracker?" Pop says across the table.

"Yeah?"

"Does Vick still stay in touch with the nurses she used to work with up in Tucson?"

He nods. "A couple of them. Why?"

"What are the chances she could call them up? Maybe have lunch with them or whatever the fuck it is chicks do. Ask if they've seen Gianna recently."

He shrugs. "She can try. She was pretty close to a couple of those girls. But I'm not sure they'd be willing to part with information on a patient."

"Then see how much cash it takes for them to talk. I'll fund it myself."

Again, Tracker nods. "All right. I'll call her and see if she can set something up."

"Good," Pop says, nodding his head. "Seems like a good place to start." As he looks around the room, he sighs. "And has anyone seen Mase? You'd think he would want to be part of this."

I snuff out my smoke and place my arms on the table, clasping my hands. "He, uh, he was going over to see Bella and Sam tonight."

"This the first time he's seeing her since she was released?" Tank asks.

I nod. "Yeah."

"You think she's going to let him come home?" Tank's eyes meet mine across the table.

"No. I'm pretty sure this was the final nail in the coffin for them."

"Shit," Jazz says under his breath.

"Okay," Pop says. "That's enough gossip for one night. For now, we wait until Tracker can find out from Vick if Gianna was in brought in to one of the hospitals up there. Then we'll go from there."

The gavel falls, and Tracker walks off, cell phone in hand, to call his old lady. The rest of the guys scatter, while I head to the bar for a drink. I have a feeling the next few days are going to be bad in ways none of us are prepared for.

When Tracker finally gets in touch with Vick, she tells him she'll call her friends first thing tomorrow, so there isn't much we can do but wait. When hours pass and no one sees or hears from my brother, a nervous tension settles over the club.

An entire day passes with no word from Masen. Bella hasn't heard from him since he left their place, and Carmen is up in Vegas with a friend for the rest of the week, so she definitely hasn't seen him. We keep ourselves busy, with work at the shop occupying most of our time. Angela even brings Seth by the shop for a few hours. He keeps Pop distracted as they work together on a small engine, but I can't focus. Every bike rolling in and out of the lot gets our attention, all of us on the lookout for my brother. No one hears from him, though. With every hour that passes, we're all more on edge.

As the evening sun dips below the surrounding buildings, my phone rings, and Masen's face flashes on the screen.

"Mase? Where are you? We're all—"

"Edward?" he shouts. "I need you to—" His voice is distorted on the other end.

"What?" I push past the few guys lingering near the bay door, making my way outside. "I can hardly hear you."

"I said I need you to promise me something."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I need you to promise to take care of Bella and Sam."

The blood runs cold as he speaks. "No, man. I can't make that promise. Where the fuck are you?" I dig through my pocket, searching for my keys. I walk toward my bike with purpose. "You in trouble? You need me to come pick you up?"

"Would you shut up and listen?" he shouts. "No, I don't need you to come pick me up. I need you to fucking listen to me. Promise me you'll look after my family."

"What are you doing, Masen? You need to wait for one of us. Don't go doing something stupid. Do you hear me?" My voice raises with every word.

"I have to do this, Edward. That fucker put his hands on my wife. He killed my baby. He's mine."

"Stop and think about this for just a goddamn minute! You can't go up against Caius on your own. Wait for us to get a few things in order and we can go after him together. You have the whole club ready to defend your family if you'd just wait a fucking minute."

"I'm not going to let the club fix my shit, E. I need to prove to everyone I can solve my own problems."

"By getting yourself killed?" My hand moves to the top of my head, and fingers weave into my hair, pulling in frustration. "You need to think about this, Mase."

"I have thought about it. It's _all_ I've thought about for the last two days, which is why I need you to promise you'll look after Bella and Sam if anything happens to me." The phone goes silent, and I think for a moment he's hung up on me, but then his voice carries over the line. "It wouldn't be that hard. I know you've always loved her."

"Masen, I—"

"It's okay, brother." He laughs, and it's a humorless sound. "I've always loved her, too. Trouble is, neither one of us ever deserved her."

"Masen, you—"

"If I make it out of what I'm about to do, you can come kick my ass, and we can laugh about this tomorrow."

Tears of frustration cloud my vision. "Don't do this."

"Come on, E. Tell me you wouldn't do the same thing if you were in my shoes. If the woman you love was hurt, tell me you wouldn't go after the ones who hurt her."

The trouble is, I can't. The woman I love _was_ hurt. But I know going after those responsible on my own would likely be a death sentence, and it's not something I would do without the backing of my club. "Wait for your brothers, Mase," I plead. "We just had a meeting about it yesterday. We're doing something. Shit's been set into motion. You just need to be patient."

"No," he insists. "I need to do this on my own. And it's not even all about me cleaning up my own mess. I can't risk any of my brothers on this one."

I grit my teeth, knowing there's no way to change his mind. "You fucking call me the minute you're somewhere safe, do you hear me?"

The fucker laughs. "I love you, Edward." His laughter dies. "And I love Bella and Sam. I just wish I'd realized what I was throwing away sooner. But I need to try and make this right."

"I love you, too, Masen." I inhale and exhale, trying to calm my pounding heart. "And you don't need to worry about your family. I'll always look out for them. You know that. But you better call me before the sun comes up."

"I need to do this," he says, a breeze whipping past the receiver on his end. "If I'm ever going to prove myself—show everyone I'm not the major fuck up everybody thinks I am—I have to do this. And maybe it's a way to make it up to Bella for all the shit I've put her through. Hell, we've both put her though the wringer. But I've always been number two, man. She never got over what happened. I just happened to be there to pick up the pieces you left behind. So, maybe I should thank you for letting me love her. But, my god, we've both hurt her enough, haven't we? She deserves to be happy. If this all goes to shit, just ... make sure she's happy."

Before I can reply, the line goes dead. In a rush of frustration, I lash out at the nearest stationary object. I kick a stack of wooden pallets, the force of my booted foot shifting the whole pile, knocking several to the ground.

"What the fuck's wrong with you?" Pop's voice echoes against the side of the building.

"Your son!" I shout, pointing at my phone. "My brother thinks he can take on Caius Volturi on his own."

"What are you talking about?"

"He just called me and made me promise if anything happened to him that I'd take care of Bella and Sam. He's going on a goddamn suicide mission."

"Shit! What the hell is he thinking?"

"You tell me. He thinks he can't ask any of us to fight his battles for him, so he thinks he has to settle this on his own."

Pop's blue eyes meet mine. "He's going to get himself killed."

"I think he already knows that."

* * *

"Any news from Tracker on Vick?" Pop asks Mac, his voice low.

"Not yet."

Pop slaps a hand down on Mac's shoulder and moves back toward the bar.

Hours have passed since Masen's phone call, and everyone is anxious as hell. I gave them a condensed version of what was said, and needless to say, they're all pissed at my brother. The sun has long since gone down, and everyone but Tracker and Buzz has gathered inside the clubhouse. Those two took off a few hours ago to search for Mase.

But considering all the miles between here and the Kingsmen's territory, it's like looking for a fucking needle in a goddamn haystack.

Unable to take the suffocating feeling of being trapped inside waiting, I walk outside for a smoke to clear my head. The soft thump of the music that's been playing fades to nothing as the door closes behind me. I settle on the bench of the picnic table outside and light a cigarette.

"You know, your brother has always been the more impulsive of the two of you." Tank's voice grows louder as he walks over.

"Yeah?"

He nods.

"Guess you would know. You are older than dirt," I joke, the corner of my mouth lifting into a half grin as I peer up at him.

"Laugh it up, kid, but you're half right. I do know." He settles onto the bench across from me. "I've watched the two of you grow up. Ever since your pop got more involved in your brother's life and Mase was around more, it's like that kid's had something to prove to everyone, _especially_ after Elizabeth died."

I watch as I knock the ash from my smoke onto the ground. "I guess so." My thumb flicks back and forth over the filter between my fingers as I think about Tank's words. "You ever think things would have been different if his mom had lived?"

He crosses his arms over his chest. "I don't doubt that for a minute. She was a loose cannon, that's for sure, but even if she didn't have her shit together, Masen had hope she'd get better. He had a connection to his roots. Lord knows _your_ mother didn't make life easy for him. She's always looked down on Mase, and that's a crying shame. All he's ever wanted was to be worthy of his father's attention and respect, and by extension, the club's. But when his mother died, I think that need to be accepted grew. And because of that, he hasn't always thought his actions through."

I nod as I take another drag, inhaling deeply and blowing the smoke out through my nose. "I just hope this time he can walk away from it."

The door to the clubhouse flies open, slamming against the cinderblock exterior of the building. Even in the faint light, I can see the color has drained from my father's face as he holds his phone to his ear. And when his eyes meet mine, I know my worst fear has come to life.

He disconnects the call, his gaze never leaving mine, and his hand falls to his side. "We need to go."

* * *

We ride down the road, two wide and five deep, all the way to the edge of town. Pop still hasn't spoken a word, but we all knew to follow him.

And as we roll up on the scene, my heart starts pounding, and I swallow past the lump forming in my throat. The red and blue lights of the police car flash in the darkness from the top of Chief Swan's cruiser. We all park our bikes where they stop, and I swing my leg over the seat, my now-leaden feet carrying me closer to the chief.

"Hey, Cullen," Swan greets Pop as we near. I look his way, and his expression tells me everything I need to know. With remorseful, tear-filled eyes, he looks at us with more pity than I've ever seen from him. "It's Masen," he says quietly.

Pop stops in his tracks, his hand moving to cover his mouth, but I keep walking, past the short tire skid on the pavement, past Masen's downed, practically crushed bike. I go all the way to the edge of the road and down the small embankment.

It's dark, but what I see is enough to stop me in my tracks. Bile churns in my gut and burns my tongue.

Left upright, posed to be found, what's left of my brother sits in the shallow ditch, his body bent and broken. The pavement has torn through his clothes, and the term _road rash_ seems wholly inadequate for the abuse his body has taken. So much red stains the center of his chest, I don't know if it's from the highway or something else.

But it makes little difference.

His helmet's been removed, and the Kingsmen's calling card—the crude, unmistakable marks meant to resemble a crown—is carved deeply into his forehead.

"Goddamn you, Mase," I whisper brokenly. Tears fill my eyes, and I drop down onto my ass into the dirt, my elbows resting on my bent knees and my hands fisting my hair.

A hand falls to my shoulder and squeezes. "Jesus," Pop whispers.

"I think I might wait until morning to go inform Bella. I heard she was in the hospital recently, so I don't want to—"

I hastily wipe my eyes and stand, turning to face Chief Swan, the man who single-handedly derailed my relationship with his daughter.

"No, I'll go over and talk to her. It's only right that someone who gives a fuck about her tells her that her husband is dead." I stare at the man, daring him to deny me this.

He raises a brow but nods, relenting. "Okay. But the coroner is going to need a next of kin to officially ID the body so it can be released to the funeral home. You need to decide who that's going to be. And as much as you guys like to do things off the record, this time I'm not sure I can bury the details. When word gets out—and it will—I'm going to have our sheriff and the one from up north breathing down my neck." He nods toward my brother's body. "We all know who was responsible. And I'm not dumb enough to think you won't retaliate."

As if on cue, a second cruiser pulls up, and the good Deputy Black steps out. He walks in our direction, an unreadable expression on his face.

"What do we have here? Extended family reunion?" He looks around, accounting for all the familiar faces, save one. "What's going on?" he asks, his gaze falling to his boss.

The reality of what's happened settles on me, and a heavy weight squeezes my chest. As Chief Swan leads Deputy Black to where my brother's broken body lies, the need to flee fuels my footsteps. I walk back toward my bike with no conscious thought.

"Where are you going?" Pop shouts over the rumble of the engine as I start it up.

I raise my eyes to his. "I have to get to Bella."

He studies me for a long moment, and I worry he's going to tell me I shouldn't ride, but then he nods. "Take care of them," he says. "She's going to need you."

I don't reply. Kicking up the kickstand, I shift the bike into gear and take off into the night. Instead of going directly to Bella's, I take the long way back to town, delaying the inevitable. I know she's sleeping, blissfully unaware that Masen's gone. And knocking on her door will forever change her life ... all our lives.

When I can hardly see through the tears in my eyes, I gather the strength to pull into the Oasis Trailer Park and navigate toward the aging double-wide tucked inside.

The house is dark, silent at this hour, but as I pull up and cut the engine, a dim light flicks on, brightening the window at the far end. After I remove my brain bucket, I sit, staring at the door, praying there was some other reason for being here. Hell, I'd rather be here to tell her he'd been found with another woman again than this.

As the door cracks open, I can't hold back the sob that escapes me.

"Edward?" Her pale face shines through the screen, and her voice is small, broken. "What is it?"

With a heavy heart and even heavier limbs, I get off my bike and walk toward her door. As if she senses how wrong my presence at this hour is and what it must mean, she takes a step back, shaking her head slowly from side to side.

The screen door creaks as I open it, and I step inside. Bella wraps her arms around herself, all while inching away from me.

"Bella—"

"No," she whispers. "You shouldn't be here right now."

"Bella," I repeat, my voice cracking, "we got a call a little over an hour ago. Your father called us."

"No," she insists, still shaking her head. "You need to leave."

"He saw Masen's bike on the side of the road and stopped. He—"

"Don't," she whispers, her eyes meeting mine. "Please."

"I'm so sorry, hon." I swallow hard and let the tears finally fall. "He's gone."

Every muscle in her body seems to go lax at once, and I catch her before she falls, gathering her into my arms and lowering us both to the floor. She clings to me as she cries, gut-wrenching sobs shaking her small body, and all I can do is hold on to her. I allow my own grief to swallow me as I cry with her, and I wonder just how much we're going to need each other to get through the coming days.

* * *

**A/N: Group hugs for everyone, or are some of you relieved to see him go? I'm sure there are mixed feelings out there. I know a lot of you were feeling conflicted about things before this chapter, so I'd love to hear how you're feeling now. **

*****And now for some fun news!*****

**So, I had an idea over the weekend. All of us, in one way or another, are being affected by COVID-19. Be it social distancing, school closings, empty shelves at the grocery store, in the case of some nations—on total lockdown—or the actual illness. I think we should be looking for ways to have some fun! So let's make some fun. **

**Locally, schools have been closed and large gatherings have been cancelled until at **_**least**_** early April. Which means the kibosh has been put on my St. Patty's day plans. How many of you would like to help me celebrate here at home? **

**I'm planning on going live in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics, TWICE today, 3/17. I'll hopefully be on at 2:00 pm and 8:00 pm EST (New York time). We can talk fic, what WIPs you're reading, questions or rants about any of my stories, or just about the stress of being stuck inside with our families, because let's be honest, it's not a cake walk. Anything to feel like we're still in touch with each other. I'm also going to have a list of key words, that if mentioned in a comment or question, would equal me taking a shot. It would be a watered down version of my cancelled plans. ;) Those of you out there who have my personal contact info could call in and be part of it too. I'll be posting a reminder in my group later today, so keep your eyes open for that. **

**Remember, you can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! Stay well, my friends!**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**Songs **

**Unsteady, X Ambassadors  
****Roads Untravelled, Linkin Park  
Dust in the Wind, Kansas **

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1.**

* * *

*****Again, lots of fiddling was had. All mistakes are mine.**

* * *

**Bella**

"_You know, you're the prettiest girl in this shit town." Masen's warm breath ghosts over my skin as he speaks. I know without looking he's smiling, his expression mischievous. _

"_Is that so?" I ask as I lie on the blanket with my eyes closed. The Palo Verde tree blooms over our heads, and when my lashes flutter open, the wispy curtain of yellow blooms casts us in a warm glow. _

"_Without a doubt."_

_My smile matches his. "I bet you say that to all the girls." _

"_No, I don't. I only say that to _my _girl. I want to take you out for a ride tonight." The twinkle in his blue eyes as he waggles his brows makes my stomach clench and my heart race. He's just as handsome as his brother, and his tongue is definitely as smooth. They must get that from their father. _

"_A ride, huh?" _

"_Yes. I think I'm the luckiest guy in town to have you on the back of my bike." _

_I push up on my elbows, and my face is a breath away from his. "I think I'm the lucky one," I whisper. I lean closer and he dips his head lower._

"_I love you, Bella Swan," he murmurs against my lips just before they meet his_.

"Bella?" Edward's raspy voice snaps me from my memories.

I clear my throat. "Yeah?"

"You want some coffee or something?"

I shake my head, my gaze locked on the open front door. Beyond the screen, children play in the cul-de-sac, a few neighbors walk slowly by, and life goes on. Out there, people seem blissfully unaware that a young life was snuffed out last night, leaving behind a heartbroken little boy and a woman who wishes she could go back in time.

"No," I finally say, "I don't want anything."

He walks over with a small plate in his hand, thrusting it in front of me. "You should at least try to eat something. I figure toast should be easy enough on your stomach."

"I don't—"

"I really don't care," he says. "You just got out of the hospital a couple days ago. You have to take care of yourself." His voice lowers. "Sam is going to need his mom to be strong."

Telling Sammy his father wasn't coming back was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. At first, he didn't believe me. As defiant as any six-year-old could possibly be, he gathered all his bravado and yelled at me, telling me that I was lying. With a little help from his uncle, he finally believed me and crumbled into the little boy he is. He begged and pleaded with me that he would be good if I could bring back his daddy, and it broke what was left of my battered and bruised heart. When he finally collapsed from the weight of it all, overcome with emotion and exhaustion, he fell asleep in my arms. Edward carried him to his room where he's been sleeping for the last two hours.

"Any word from Carmen?" I ask as I nibble a corner of the toast.

He clears his throat, but his voice is still gravelly. "I talked to her friend about an hour ago. She left her hotel around ten this morning. I don't expect her to get here until sometime after five."

"Thank you for calling her," I say softly. "I'm not sure I could have done it."

Edward nods once, but before he can reply, the house phone rings, and he exhales a heavy breath, turning back to the kitchen to answer it. It's been ringing off the hook since the sun rose, and I'm simply too overwhelmed to deal with any of it. I'm somewhere between feeling like I'm trapped in a hazy fog and a vivid nightmare.

Edward's deep voice and murmured words as he speaks to whomever's called grow quieter as he walks farther away from me. He's kept the details of Masen's death from me for now, and I'm grateful. I'm not ready to hear it yet, and I'm not sure when or _if_ I ever will be.

Still staring unseeingly through the screen door, I don't really comprehend the approaching form. Without a knock or any other warning, the door flies open, and Alice Whitlock rushes in.

"Oh, Bella. I came as soon as I could. How are you?" she asks as she sits beside me, wrapping her arms around me.

"I'm fine," I say, extricating myself from her grasp. I pull my feet up onto the sofa cushion, wrapping my arms around my knees, shielding myself from her attentions.

"I talked to Pop first thing this morning. I just can't—" Tears fill her eyes for her lost brother, and she wipes at her nose. "I can't believe he's really gone," she whispers. She reaches for my hand and squeezes it. "Is there anything you need? What can I do for you?"

I shake my head, my eyes burning with a fresh round of tears. "I, uh, I'm not sure yet," I rasp.

"Have any arrangements been made yet? Do you have—"

"Ali, stop," Edward demands as he walks into the room. "Nothing's been decided yet."

"Okay," she relents. "I'm sorry. I just feel like there's something I should be doing."

I squeeze her hand this time. "It's okay. I appreciate it." I look at Edward as he hovers over us and back to Alice. "I don't even know what comes next."

Edward settles into the spot on my other side, resting his folded hands between his parted knees. "When I talked to your dad, he said the coroner would need someone to come down and do a positive ID on the ... body for the official paperwork so Mase could be released to the funeral home."

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat as I think about what I might have to do. "Did he say who—"

"You don't have to do it, Bella. I can just as easily sign the papers. I've already—" His voice cracks at the end, and I turn my body to wrap my arms around him.

"I feel like I should go," I whisper.

He's shaking his head and pulling away before I have all the words out. "No, Bella. I don't—" His voice softens. "I don't think you should see him that way."

I look up him and see the pain in his eyes. "Was it that bad?"

He hesitates, the pain of what he saw last night clear in his tearful gaze. "You should remember him the way he was." His voice cracks and he blinks away his tears before looking at his sister and back to me. "Maybe Ali can go with you to pick out flowers for the service."

I turn to my friend, my sister-in-law, and her teary eyes are almost my undoing. "Will you help me?" I whisper.

"Of course."

* * *

When will you be back?" Sam asks, clutching my shirt with his small hands as I hold him in my arms.

"Probably a few hours. I need to go talk to some people and pick out a few things for … for Daddy."

He nods but won't look at me. We've been inundated with people coming in and out of the house since he woke up this morning. They all ask how he's doing, and he's grown tired of answering them. He's also avoided everyone's attempts at hugging him, instead choosing to hide behind Edward or me when anyone new arrives.

"Sam?" I prod, willing him to look at me. When he does, his sadness is palpable. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Promise?" he whispers.

"I promise."

He nods and hugs me tighter than any kid his size should be able to. I set him on his feet, and he wanders in the direction of the kitchen where the box of donuts Jazz brought over lays on the counter.

I look past my son and see Carmen, nearly motionless as she sits at the kitchen table. With her lit cigarette gripped in her fingers, the long column of ash still clinging to the filter, she gazes out the window. She's been like this, silent and despondent, since she arrived yesterday evening, and there's no way I'm going to leave Sam with her.

I turn to Edward, who's been watching me closely all day. "What time do I need to meet you and Pop at the funeral home?"

"In an hour."

"And you'll stay until Esme gets here?"

He steps closer to me, reaching for my hand. "I'll be here until she picks him up. Sam will be fine."

I nod, taking a step back and heading toward the door. Alice is waiting patiently for me in her car when I walk outside. She's blessedly quiet as she shifts into drive, and I stare blankly out the window as we drive through town toward the florist.

It seems a trivial thing to do, choosing flowers for a funeral. I mean, who really cares about that shit? The person they're for is oblivious, and the cloying smell of so many arrangements in one room may forever bring back bad memories for the living.

I tried to convince Alice to just go ahead without me, but she refused, reminding me this was one final thing I could do for my husband ... for her brother. And what Alice wants, Alice gets.

The florist shop is nearly empty when we walk inside, and my sister-in-law goes straight for the counter, focused on ticking off this task from her growing to-do list. She asks me what kind of spray I want to order, what kind of flowers to include and what color ribbon to use. I wave off her questions with an "I don't care." But when they begin to discuss flower colors, I turn toward them and offer my only input.

"Yellow," I say. "I want yellow flowers."

* * *

"We have our base model, which would be the most affordable, but it really is rather plain," the funeral director says. "There are a few other options that might be more fitting." She walks toward a display of higher-end caskets, and the room suddenly feels very small.

"Um, Masen's life insurance wasn't ..." I shake my head. "I don't think I can afford—"

"Bella," Edward says softly, wrapping his arm around me. "Don't worry about the cost of all this shit. The club is going to cover it."

I shrug out of his hold and move toward the door. "Then you choose," I call over my shoulder as I make a hasty retreat.

I can't take in enough air as I gasp for breath, and I stumble as I lower myself onto a bench in the hallway of the funeral home. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. In and out, in and out. I'm unsure how much time passes, but eventually, a large, warm body sits beside me. I know without opening my eyes it's Edward.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "It was just too much for me there for a minute."

He reaches for my hand, and I let him take it. "Hey." I turn to face him. "You're allowed to feel what you're feeling, Bella. If you need to take a break, take it."

I nod, and my eyes drop to our joined hands. "Has the date for the service been decided yet?"

"Yeah, three days from now. The call went out to all the other chapters yesterday afternoon, and that should give people enough time to get here."

"I have a feeling Carmen is going to be a problem."

"I don't doubt that. Has she said anything to you since she showed up?"

"Not a word. She walked through the door, sat at the table, and lit a cigarette. I don't think she's moved since. I don't know if she even went to bed last night."

"I'll make sure they arrange a cage for her to ride in during the procession. I can't imagine she'd be happy about being on someone's bike between here and the cemetery."

I shake my head, chuckling. "No, she's always hated motorcycles."

"That she has," he says with a smile in his voice, but it once again turns serious. "What about Sam? Do you want him to ride with Carmen?"

I tilt my head up and meet his gaze. "No, I want him on a bike. This is for his father, and he needs to be part of it ... with the rest of his family."

The doors to the showroom open, and the director and my father-in-law step out into the hallway.

"Everything is in place, Mrs. Cullen," she says. "The only things we still need are your husband's personal effects we spoke about, and since you've requested a closed casket, a framed photograph for the service. You can drop those off in the next two days."

"We'll need to find his cut," I say softly, turning to Edward and then looking up at Pop. "Right? It needs to be buried with him? Because he wasn't wearing it when ... "

"We'll find it, Bella."

The director watches our interaction with a sad smile. "Please call me if you have any other questions." She looks at the men standing on either side of me. "Any of you. And again, I am so very sorry for your loss."

I rise from my seat and offer her a weak smile. "Thank you."

* * *

The sounds are low and distant, muffled voices all blended together into one nearly continuous hum. Bubbles pop on the surface, but as they grow further and further apart, I can't be bothered to care. Maybe if I stay here long enough, the bubbles will stop altogether and all the chaotic thoughts swirling in my head will, too.

But then one voice rises over the others, high and distinct, and I remember there's someone counting on me to be strong enough to get us both through this day. I push myself upright in the tub, the water dripping from my face as I gasp in a lungful of air.

"You okay in there?" Edward shouts through the door.

"Yeah," I reply. "I'll be out soon."

His heavy footsteps, a gait so much like his brother's, grow faint as he walks away from the door. I bend my knees and wrap my arms around them, resting my head and closing my eyes. With a deep breath, I steel myself for the day to come.

* * *

Looking in the mirror, I double-check every button and zipper, making sure everything is in order before turning to look at the vest laid out on the bed.

My _Property of Mase _patches are a stark steel gray against the black leather. I run my hands over them, brushing my fingertips against the raised threads, and memories of happier times rush back to me. Times when I would smile as I went with him, proudly bearing his name on my back. And I remember the smile he would give me when I would wear it. Once upon a time, we were happy.

But all of that feels like a lifetime ago.

Carefully, I slide it on a hanger and put it back in the closet, closing the door on more than just the vest. I slip my feet into my boots and lace them up, straightening my black jeans as I stand. With a final look in the mirror, I give myself one last glance before walking out to face the rest of the family.

* * *

"Here," Edward says, handing me a small pill and a bottle of water.

"What's this?"

"Something to help you deal with today." His eyes scan the room before turning back to me. "You can't tell me you're okay."

"No," I croak, "I'm really not."

"It's just to help you relax," he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and kissing the top of my head. "Promise."

Trusting he wouldn't give me anything that would hurt me, I swallow the pill, hopeful it can help me get through the day. Dozens, _hundreds_ of people mill in and out of the funeral home, all here to pay their last respects. I am introduced to so many new faces, and I can't remember any of their names.

Chapters from hundreds of miles away have ridden here to say goodbye to one of their own. The room is at maximum capacity, and there are many moments when I feel like I can't breathe. And every time I feel like it's just too much, Edward leads me outside. He smokes, and I pace, Sam never too far away from either of us.

By the time the visitation is over and the service is about to start, I'm on edge and ready to have it all over and done. If one more person comes up to me and asks how I'm doing, I just may scream.

In the front row sit Pop, Esme, Seth, Edward, myself, and Sam, followed by Alice, Jazz, and finally, Carmen. The rest of the club and other chapter members fill the rows of seats behind us, and beyond that, it's standing room only. As the chaplain prattles on, Sam looks up at me, his wide, brown eyes shining with unshed tears. I open my arms, and he climbs into them, wrapping his tiny arms around me. I bury my face in his neck and hold him tightly, and as I whisper reassurances to him, Edward wraps an arm around both of us. Looking up at him, I see the pain in his tear-filled eyes. Trying to give him the same comfort he's so willingly giving me, I lay my head on his shoulder, finally allowing my own tears to roll down my cheeks.

* * *

The line of bikes ready to ride to the cemetery is long. I think every chapter of the Devil's Outcasts from Arizona to Texas is here. The car carrying Carmen is behind all of the bikes, last in the line, and I know she's not happy about it. She still hasn't spoken more than a few words to me since she arrived home four days ago, and I'm not sure if she will.

"You make sure you hold on to Tank, okay?" I ask Sam as I double-check his helmet.

"I will, Mommy." His voice is small, and I'm so worried about how he's dealing with all of this.

"He'll be fine, Bella," Tank says, turning to me before shouting over his shoulder. "Won't ya, little guy?"

He nods and squeezes his tiny arms as far around Tank as they can go.

"You ready?" Edward asks from behind me.

I nod and walk toward his bike, placing my helmet on my head. His bike is right next to his father's, just behind the motorcycle hearse. With clear panes of glass making up its sides, I can see Masen's casket and the bright yellow spray of flowers laid upon it.

I swing my leg over the seat of Edward's bike, and everyone takes that as the signal to start their engines. The rumble is almost deafening, and I close my eyes and take a breath. "One last ride," I say loud enough for only Edward to hear.

He grasps my joined hands in his as they lie against his stomach. "One last ride."

The patches of his cut are rough against my cheek as I lay my head against his back. And when we begin to move, I squeeze him tighter.

We follow the hearse as it pulls out onto the road, and as we ride through the streets, it seems like half the town has come out to watch. Residents line the sidewalks, and I even spot Mike Newton in his Dollar General polo standing outside the store as we pass.

The ride to the cemetery is long and winding, but I don't mind the scenic route. The wind in my face gives me time to think, to prepare myself for the very last goodbye. Every so often, Edward squeezes his left hand over mine, reminding me I'm not alone in this.

We finally pull into the cemetery, and everyone lines up on the narrow road, killing their engines and putting down their kickstands. Helmets come off, and everyone rises from their seats. Esme, Alice, Rose, Vicki, Maggie, and I stand by as the men who were closest to Mase walk to the hearse to carry his casket to his final resting place.

Three on either side, they lift it, carrying it toward the tent. Sam reaches for my hand, and we follow dutifully behind them. The seven of us take our seats, and the men stand behind us, waiting for the chaplain to say his final words. I don't really listen; I only stare at the casket, the yellow flowers next to it glowing brightly in the sunshine, so much like Masen's smile used to. Their happy color is a sharp contrast to how I'm feeling inside.

Even when the casket is finally lowered into the ground, I stare blankly at the flowers, focusing on anything but what's happening.

My thoughts drift back to that day under the Palo Verde tree, when life was simpler. Back then I was full of hope that a life with Masen could be a good one. That if we worked at it, we could make the family both of us had been denied. But hope and possibilities soon got lost along the way. Real life and the struggles we faced early on set us on a path neither of us wanted to be on. And now I'll never know if we would have been able to move past our problems and get back to being the friends we started as. When all of the club members step out from behind the chairs and toward Masen's casket, I'm snapped from my heavy-hearted thoughts.

From the prospects to the old-timers, each and every man in the chapter lines up. One by one, they take turns scooping a shovelful of dirt and dumping it into the deep grave before handing the tool to the next member. When the line is down to the final few—those who were especially close to Masen—tears gather in my eyes. Watching Mac and then Jazz, their own eyes clouded by tears, is difficult, but it's nothing compared to watching Pop and Edward say their goodbyes.

As Pop lifts the shovel with a trembling hand, sadness and regret are written clearly on his face. The way he treated Masen, the way he favored his other children for so long ... I can see the apologies he'll never be able to give in his shining eyes. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mase's life would have been so much different if Carlisle Cullen had been a better father to his son ... and Pop knows it, too.

When Edward takes the shovel from his father, his jaw is clenched tightly and his grip on the tool is stiff. I can see he's doing all he can to hold himself together. But when he lifts the scoop of dirt and turns it over into his brother's grave, tears begin to fall from his eyes. Watching him cry in front of us, vulnerable in front of his club brothers and everyone else, is my undoing. A stuttering sob escapes me, and I squeeze my eyes closed, unable to watch him fall apart.

A few more words are spoken, and a few more passages are read before the service is called to a close. Everyone begins their slow retreat to their bikes, but I stay in my seat, my eyes now open and staring at the ground. Even Sam has run off to find his cousin. When I'm sure I don't have much of an audience, I stand up and head toward the huge, yellow arrangement, plucking a single stem from the bunch. I walk to the edge of the open grave and stare down at the dirt-covered coffin.

"You were always enough, Mase. No matter what we faced, you were enough. But I'm sorry _I_ wasn't enough," I whisper. "I'll do my best to take care of Sam. He'll know how hard you tried for us, how you did your best, even if you and I couldn't figure out how to keep _us_ going. He'll know how much you loved him." I bring the bloom to my nose and inhale. "Goodbye."

I toss the flower into the grave and turn, walking straight into Edward's open arms.

"You ready to get out of here?" he asks, his voice gravelly.

"Yeah," I say, burrowing my face into his chest. "I'm ready."

* * *

**A/N: Everyone still with me? We'll get to hear what's going on with Carmen next chapter. I know many of you have your suspicions about what her next move will be. And please, please keep in mind the slow burn warning is still in effect. We've got a long way to go. **

**And just a note about finding out what happened to break up Edward and Bella ... if you're waiting for a big reveal moment, you aren't going to get one. Little clues have been left along the way, and the final details are coming in the next few chapters. But those details ARE coming. :) **

**Everybody doing okay out there? It's been a struggle for me to update this, knowing so many of us are ... well, struggling with the current state of our reality. My state has officially issued a "stay at home" order with only essential workers reporting to work for at least the next two weeks. For my family, that means my hubby is working three days a week. I'm scared and apprehensive about what may be next for us—all of us—but I'm doing my best to keep my chin up and think positively. There's a quote from the movie The Crow that always stuck with me ... It can't rain all the time. And it really can't. Eventually, this will be over and we'll be able to go back to our regularly scheduled programming, but for now, we need to heed the warnings of the experts. If we all do our part and #stayhome, we'll see this to the other side sooner. In the meantime, enjoy the time with your families and loved ones you're stuck at home with. And don't forget to thank the nurses, doctors, food workers, delivery and truck drivers doing their part to keep the world spinning. **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics, even if it's just to talk about your day or share a meme or joke. Anything to make each other smile. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Be kind.**

**Stay safe.**

**Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**Songs**

**These Days, The Black Keys  
What If, Five For Fighting  
****Sorrow, Sleeping At Last  
Devil May Cry, The Weeknd****  
****Chop and Change, The Black Keys**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1. And if you haven't been listening, I highly suggest at least taking the time to listen to Sorrow by Sleeping At Last. It's ... perfect for this chapter. **

* * *

**Bella**

The room is warm and full of people. I hadn't realized just how many would want to come back to the clubhouse after the funeral. Food and drink are plentiful as dozens of people mill around sharing stories of Masen—from when he was a gangly teenager or a fumbling prospect, and later a valued member of the club. They remember him fondly, and I'm conflicted that my more recent memories make it difficult to remember those better times.

The cushion beside me sinks, and Edward leans in. "You doing okay?"

I offer my best smile. "As well as I can, I guess."

He looks around the room and turns back to me. "I haven't seen Carmen. Do you know if she came back here with us?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm sure she went home."

He's quiet for a moment too long.

"What?" I ask.

"You two going to be able to live together?"

"I honestly have no idea. Your brother was a lot of things, but he was also a good buffer between her and me."

His voice lowers. "I'm worried she's going to kick you and Sam out, Bella. She's always been a spiteful woman, and now that Mase is gone—"

"I'll handle it." Frustrated by the reminder of the uncertainty of my future, I'm done listening and ready for this day to be over. I rise from the sofa, intent on finding my son and going home. Even with my brother-in-law shouting after me, I push my way through the room toward the door, hopeful I'll find Sam outside.

More people are sitting at the picnic tables that have been set up, and a few are manning the grill. I spot Sam sitting in the shade, side-by-side with Seth. My son's somber expression hurries my steps.

I crouch down beside him. "Hey, kiddo. Are you ready to go home?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "I guess."

I spot Angela hovering nearby, a sad smile on her face as she watches us. I stand up and walk toward her. "Thanks for keeping an eye on him."

"I didn't mind. Those two are easy to watch. They're practically joined at the hip when they're together."

I smile, and for probably the first time today, it feels genuine. This woman, one I hated for so long for unknowingly taking advantage of my situation all those years ago, really has been great for Edward as far as exes go. Even though their relationship was limited to a few encounters and the only reason she's still around is because of Seth, Angela is a great woman. For Edward's sake, I'm thankful she's always made it easy for him to be such a big part of Seth's life.

"Hey," I say, rubbing at my forehead. "Do you think you could give Sam and me a ride home?"

"Yeah, of course. I just need to go find Ben. Are you ready to go now?"

Thinking of what waits for me inside the clubhouse—topics I'm not ready to discuss and happy memories I'm not in the mood to recall—I'm more than ready to leave. "I am."

I want to leave with little to no fanfare, only going back inside to grab my bag. But I meet Rose as I try to sneak past the kitchen. She stops me with a promise of coming by with leftovers later tonight. I thank her with a hug and try to slip out silently, but I stop short at the sight of Edward, Pop, Tracker, and Vicki heading into the chapel, closing the door behind them.

I'm not sure if I want to know what is so important it can't wait until another day.

The ride back home is quiet. Sam curls into my side in the back of Ben and Angela's SUV, while Seth sleeps in his seat on the other side of me. When we pull up to the trailer, several lights are on inside, and I'm suddenly worried about what I might be walking into. I help Sam from the car and turn to thank the Cheneys for the ride.

"Anytime, Bella. Promise you'll call me if you two need anything?"

"I will. Thanks, Angela."

They wait until we're inside before driving away, and as soon as they do, I wish they would have taken me with them. I walk into a lit but quiet house. Carmen is sitting on her perch at the table, cigarette in hand and staring into space just like the last few days. Cardboard boxes are stacked near the door, and panic swells in my gut. She couldn't possibly—

"Mommy?" Sam's voice is full of worry, and I hate it.

I crouch down to his level and meet his eyes. "Whatever it is, you don't need to worry about it, okay?"

His eyes narrow for a moment, unsure if he should believe me. I do my best to give him some kind of reassurance in my tone and expression, and he finally nods ... slowly.

"How about you go get your pajamas on and get into bed? It's been a long day, and I think we could both use a good night's sleep."

"So, I don't need a bath?" he asks me skeptically.

"Not tonight." What I don't tell him is I'm too physically exhausted to fight with him about it, and I need whatever energy I have to face his great-grandmonster.

He wraps his arms around my neck. "Will you come tuck me in?"

"Absolutely." I squeeze him tightly before letting him go. After he disappears into his room, I walk slowly toward the woman who seems hell-bent on forever giving me reasons to dislike her.

"What's with the boxes?" I ask as I grip the top of one of the kitchen chairs.

She snuffs out her cigarette and meets my eyes. "I think it's best if the two of us don't live under the same roof."

"So, what, are you just going to throw us out on the street?" My heart races, and I grip the chair tighter.

She smiles ruefully. "You know, Bella, you and I never got along. I've never really trusted you. The way you went from one brother to the next didn't set well with me, and I tried so hard in the beginning to convince Masen to break up with you."

"I know. You—"

"Then that little boy came into the picture, and I knew, one way or another, you would always be part of my grandson's life." Her tired, steely eyes meet mine. "But now Masen is gone. I don't have to put up any pretenses about liking you." She crosses her arms over her chest and settles back in her chair, her eyes softening just a little. "I'm tired, Bella. I'm old, and I've spent the last forty-eight years raising kids. First my own daughter, and then her son. I don't have it in me to help raise another one."

I'm speechless. My tongue feels heavy as I think about how I'm going to care for my son, where we might live, and how the hell I'm going to afford it on my part-time wages. I'm so caught up in my thoughts, I almost miss her next words.

"A friend of mine said I could stay with her in Vegas until I can get my own place," she says. "And I've accepted her offer."

"What does that mean for me and Sam? Surely, you wouldn't toss your great-grandson out into the streets."

"No, I may not particularly care for you, but that boy is my blood." She leans forward and rests her arms on the table. "Masen had an insurance policy, yes?"

I nod. "It wasn't much. Just enough to ... to bury him," I say softly.

"But I know the club took care of that."

"They did."

"I've decided to sell this place to you, if you want it. The policy should pay enough to cover what I'm asking."

I swallow hard and release a humorless chuckle. "As generous as that is, Carmen, how am I going to pay the rest of the bills on my own? The lot rent alone is five hundred a month. Masen and I were barely making ends meet before, and now ..."

"It's the best I can offer you." She rises from her chair and pushes it back to the table. "I'm leaving at the end of the week. Let me know what you want to do before I go so we can handle the paperwork."

When she leaves the room, I'm left stunned and unable to process what's just happened. I'm not sure what would have been worse—Carmen tossing us out or offering to sell us a home I can't afford on my own.

But when I tuck in my son and look into his eyes, I know uprooting him to face an unknown future wouldn't be fair. He's just lost his father and losing his home as well would be too much. It's an easy decision. I'll just have to figure out how to make it happen.

* * *

As she promised, Carmen loads up a rented truck four days later. She kisses Sam on the top of his head and hands me the title to the trailer in exchange for a post-dated check I can only hope Masen's life insurance will cover. With her car attached to a dolly at the rear of the truck, she waves goodbye as she pulls out onto the street, and I can guarantee it's the last we'll ever see of her.

With his arms wrapped around my waist, Sam looks up at me. "So, it's just you and me now?"

I smile down at him and run my fingers through his hair. "It is, kiddo. What do you say we go inside and clean up the mess Gran left behind? Then maybe we can think about moving you into one of the bigger rooms."

His eyes light up at the suggestion, and it makes me smile.

Scrubbing the layers of smoke from the walls and opening the windows to air out the house is cathartic in a strange way. It's more than a literal cleansing; it's like a fresh beginning is just within my reach. I have no idea how we're going to do it, but for the first time in a long time, I'm hopeful for the future.

But when I step over the threshold into the room I shared with my husband, I'm stopped short. Outside of grabbing my clothes for the day, I've avoided this space since the night Masen was killed, instead choosing to sleep in my son's room.

Everywhere I look are memories. The corner where Sammy's bassinet was for the first months of his life is empty now, but when I close my eyes, I remember all the nights Masen would get up to get our son, bouncing him in his arms as he carried him to me. My eyes travel to the bed, still rumpled and unmade, and I think about all the passionate nights we shared ... the sleepy mornings we spent there, talking quietly about what we wanted our future to look like.

Before our dreams were derailed by bad decisions.

Packing up my bedroom to move down the hall is a slow process, and more difficult than I thought it would be. It may be the fresh start I need, but it's also closing a chapter of my life that made me who I am today, and my emotions are running high. I fill box after box with Masen's clothes, picking out a few things I can't bear to part with. The shirt he wore the day we were married—the thin flannel shirt I always stole when the nights were a little chilly—I bring it to my nose and inhale. The lingering scent of my husband evokes memories I'm desperate to hold onto ... and a few I'd rather forget.

More than once I find a photograph or trinket that reminds me of a happier time in my life with Masen. When I see his goofy expressions in candids and his beaming smile as he holds a newborn Sam in his arms, tears well in my eyes and a smile forms on my lips. Stuffed animals he won for me at the county fair fill a box in the back of the closet, each of them holding a happy memory. We had our problems, but we had good days, too. Our life together wasn't all bad.

Several times I have to stop what I'm doing to dry my eyes and collect myself. Sammy must sense how hard it is for me, because every time I turn around, he's at my side, offering me a hug. With the fond memories stashed away, I deal with the rest, bagging and boxing it all to take to the clubhouse, hoping someone can use it.

Eventually, my room is packed in boxes, and Sammy helps me drag it all down the hallway. When I finally move my bed into Carmen's abandoned room and Sam's into mine, it feels right ... even if I end up with my son cradled in my arms as we drift to sleep that night.

* * *

When I finally get the chance to sit and look at my finances, I realize I don't have to panic just yet. After paying Carmen for the trailer and catching up the regular bills, I'll have a small amount left from Masen's life insurance that should cover the next few months. I'll worry about that when it gets here.

What I don't plan for is Sam getting sick.

He's struggling for breath, and I immediately feel guilty, afraid the chemicals from the heavy-duty cleaning we did a few days ago triggered his asthma. When the nebulizer just doesn't help enough, I make the budget-busting decision to take him to the ER. And after the doctor pulls me aside and tells me Sam needs to be admitted, I sink into the nearest chair, suddenly feeling like the universe isn't quite done shitting on me yet.

When he's finally settled in a room and sleeping, I step out into the hallway, needing a moment to gather my thoughts. Breaking down in front of him is the last thing I want to do.

"Bella!" Edward's voice echoes down the hall as he rushes toward me. Jazz and Buzz—one of the prospects—trail behind him. "We came as soon as we heard. How is he?"

"How did you—"

"Don't be mad, but Vick called Tracker. She saw you and Sam down in the ER. She said you looked pretty upset. So, I thought you might want some company." He settles into the chair beside me.

"Thanks," I say softly. "He's okay now. They were able to give him something to stop his coughing so he could catch his breath. He's finally asleep."

"Why didn't _you_ call one of us?" he asks, sounding hurt.

I shrug. "I'm sorry. I would have, eventually. I just haven't really had time to think."

"Do you need anything from home?"

I shake my head. "I have no idea. I don't know how long he'll be here. He could be released in the morning, or he could be here a week. I just don't know."

He wraps an arm around me. "Then I'll wait with you until you know."

I look up into his bright green eyes and offer him a tired smile. "Thanks."

In the two days before he's released, I'm not alone longer than the time it takes to make a visit to the restroom or to the parents' shower facilities. If Edward isn't roaming around somewhere nearby, Buzz is here. Alice and Rose stop by bearing gifts of food and coffee, both of which I happily accept, along with the clean clothes they bring. Since I'm kept occupied, sitting at my son's bedside isn't the hardship it could be otherwise.

When I get a visit from the hospital's billing department to inform me our medical insurance has lapsed, I'm caught off guard. While I sort out that mess, Edward stomps off to call his mother to find out why the premium wasn't paid for this month. I don't have the energy right now to think about whatever petty reason Esme had to not pay it. The only silver lining to this is finding out we qualify for assistance ... at least for the hospital stay. While it's a relief to know I won't have to worry about how to pay for this, I'm also missing work. But my son is more important. I'll have to figure out the rest later.

When Sam's finally released and wheeled to the door, Edward is there waiting for us with his car.

"I really appreciate this," I say as I buckle my seatbelt.

"You don't need to thank me, Bella. I'm happy to help." He looks in the rearview mirror and pulls out toward the road. As he does, I notice Buzz in the side mirror trailing closely behind us on his bike.

"What's with the personal escort?" I joke.

He turns and flashes me a lopsided grin. "I've got precious cargo. Can't be too careful."

Something in his tone puts me on alert. I lean closer, keeping my voice low so Sam can't hear me. "What's really going on?"

He glances at his nephew and then back to the road, hesitant to speak.

"Please tell me."

He takes a deep breath and blows it through his nose. "Buzz is going to be hanging around your place for the next few days, okay?"

My hackles rise, knowing there's something he's not telling me. "Why?" I ask through gritted teeth.

"I can't say too much, but we want to make sure you're safe until the dust clears."

"What dust?"

He sighs. "We're not entirely sure the threat from the Kingsmen is over."

I fall heavily back into my seat and cross my arms over my chest, tears welling in my eyes. "Will it ever stop?" I whisper. "Will my life ever not feel like a series of bad television episodes?"

He reaches for my hand. "Hey," he prods. "I won't let anything happen to you, okay? I promise."

I turn to meet his eyes. "As much as I'd like to believe you, I'm not sure you can make that promise. And I'm _so tired_ of broken promises, Edward."

* * *

"You didn't think you could at least _call_ me, Mike?" Angry tears well in my eyes and I swallow down the urge to strangle the prick standing in front of me.

"Look, I was as understanding as I could be. But with you missing so many days—"

"I _called_ you. My son was in the _hospital_! And before that, I buried my husband, you asshole," I yell, all sense of civility flying out the window. "Not to mention _I _was in the hospital after being attacked in _your _parking lot. It's not like I was on fucking vacation!"

"I'm sorry, but my hands are tied." He leans forward, and the look in his eyes is positively predatory. "Now, if you were willing to ... _convince_ me to give you—"

"Everything okay in here?" Jessica asks as she pops her head through the doorway, interrupting what I'm sure was going to be a proposition from the slimy creep.

"Everything is just great," I spit, shoving my way past her. "You must give fantastic head, Jess," I yell over my shoulder, gaining the attention of more than one customer as I storm toward the door. I turn around and lean back against the glass as I push my way outside. "Just be sure you can keep that shit up. Apparently, Mike isn't one to give second chances otherwise."

I slam my car door and scream, banging my head on the steering wheel. I close my eyes and try to swallow the tears that won't stop. When I think I finally have a handle on my emotions, a knock on the window scares the shit out of me, and again, I scream.

"Everything okay, Bella?" Buzz peers into my car, concern written all over his face.

I take a breath to calm myself before rolling down the window. "I'm fine. I was just having a moment."

"You sure? I thought you had a shift today?"

I laugh. "Yeah, Buzz, so did I." I stare blankly out the windshield. "I'm gonna stop by the shop. Talk to Esme about something, okay?" I ask, turning to look up at him.

"Sure. Just lead the way," he says with a smirk.

When I pull into the lot, it's swarming with activity. I try to stay out of the way, parking on the far end, away from the bays where they're moving cars in and out. Edward catches sight of me, but I keep walking, determined to speak to Esme before I lose my nerve.

"Bella," she says in cautious surprise. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I was hoping you could help me." I step all the way into the office, closing the door behind me.

"With what?" Her eyes narrow in suspicion. I don't doubt she thinks I'm here to ask for money or to chew her out for letting our medical insurance lapse.

"I was wondering if I could pick up a few shifts here."

"Oh," she says, leaning back in her chair. "Unless you know your way around the shop floor, I don't think we have enough work to keep you busy. We're short a mechanic, not a secretary," she says, her words hitting below the belt.

I take a moment to calm myself. I'm sure she's trying to goad me into reacting to her snide remark. "Not even after hours? Maybe cleaning or filing?"

She shakes her head and leans forward, her expression changing to one of false concern. "I'm sorry, Bella. But there really isn't anything here for you."

I stare at her, and for a brief moment, I'm certain her words mean more than there isn't any _work_ here for me. I nod and rise from my seat.

"Okay. Thanks anyway."

I rush from the room, escaping to the safety of my car, Edward calling after me the whole way. I start my engine before he can reach me, and I peel out of the lot, leaving him looking bewildered in my rearview mirror.

Driving through town, I realize my options for gainful employment are limited. Most places around here are family owned and operated businesses, so hiring me would mean less money in their own pockets. Anything outside of town would mean a long commute, and with a less than dependable vehicle, that isn't feasible. It would also mean daycare for Sam after school, and I definitely can't afford that.

Knowing I'm out of options, I make a quick decision. When I've driven nearly to the edge of town, I dig my phone out of my purse, fumbling to put it on speaker and selecting a familiar number. It rings a few times, and when the call connects, I swallow down my nerves.

"Hey, Bella."

"Hey, Rose. I was hoping I could come by the studio. I need to talk to you."

* * *

**A/N: How are we feeling about Carmen's decision to leave? Are we ready to strangle Mike? And does everyone remember what Rose does for a living? Things are about to get interesting. ;) I'd love to hear your thoughts. **

**To those of you who donated, the Fandoms For Hope And Relief fiction compilation should be delivered to your inboxes on or around this coming Sunday, April 5, including six chapters of Shift! To make sure those of you who will be reading Shift are all caught up, I'm hoping to post chapter 12 of Clutch around the same time I receive my copy. Then you can decide how you want to learn what broke up Bella and Edward. Shift will be "as it happened," and in Clutch, it will be mentioned in chapter 12. **

**For those of you who didn't get a chance to donate, don't worry! Chapter 1 of Shift will post to my FFN profile on May 1. I haven't yet decided what kind of posting schedule it will have, but I promise not to make you wait too long for all of it. ;) **

**I hope all of you are taking time to care for yourselves. Be it taking a few minutes to read or write, be creative, or go for a mind-clearing walk, don't forget to be kind to yourselves. We're all feeling the pressures of our altered reality, and it's okay to need a minute. I've taken several. **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

****The Fandoms For Hope and Relief compilation, which includes Shift, hasn't been sent out yet. I was really hoping to line this chapter up with it so those of you who donated could choose in which order you'd like to read about what broke up ExB—as it happens or mentioned in conversation in this chapter. If you'd rather read it in the prequel, maybe hang on to this chapter for a few days. Hopefully, the comp will be sent out soon. **

**Songs**

**Oblivion, Shinedown  
****Through Glass, Stone Sour  
****The Road I'm On, 3 Doors Down  
****When the Seasons Change, Five Finger Death Punch  
****Black Vultures, Halestorm**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1.**

* * *

**Edward**

"What the hell was that all about?" Jazz asks as I walk back into the garage.

"I have no idea." As I turn back to the car I'm working on, I spot my mother through the window between the shop floor and the office as she stares out toward the lot. "But I think I might know who does."

I toss my wrench onto the roll around and head toward the office. Esme is still standing at the window with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Mind telling me what you said to Bella to send her driving out of here like a bat out of hell?"

She turns to me, rolling her eyes as she stalks back to her desk. "She always was one for dramatics."

"What did you say to her?"

"Nothing to warrant that kind of reaction. She came here asking for a job and I had to tell her there wasn't anything I could do for her unless she could work on the floor. Masen left us short a mechanic, not short a secretary."

I rub my hand over my face and groan. "Please tell me you didn't actually say that shit to her."

"Why wouldn't I? I've never held my tongue with her before. I'm not going to start now."

"Because it was just a little insensitive, _Mother_." I flop unceremoniously into a chair. I watch her as she shuffles though a stack of invoices, purposely avoiding looking at me. "And we still need to talk about that stunt you pulled with their health insurance."

She looks up, her brow raised. "And just like I told you when Sam was in the hospital, it was an oversight. The premiums come out of payroll. Masen didn't have a paycheck, so it wasn't paid. I don't know what you want me to tell you."

"I want you to tell me you'll fix that shit so they're insured. They _need_ insurance with Sammy's asthma. And that assistance they got for Sam's hospital stay may not cover everything. It might just be for the hospital bill. I don't know."

"She can just as easily get her own—"

"What the fuck is so difficult about doing this _one_ thing for them? Whatever your issue still is with Bella should mean jack shit. Sam is your _grandson_. I do not understand why you would—"

"He's your _father's_ grandson." Her stare is every bit as cold as it was the day she looked me in the eye and told me to end it with Bella. "I hold no ill will toward that little boy. He's as innocent as my Seth, and I do my part to be there when he needs me—for your father's sake. But Sam is _not_ my blood."

As I look at her, I see the same bitterness for Bella that settled in her bones all those years ago. Even now, she wants to make Bella suffer for things that are totally out of her control.

I take a deep breath, trying to control my temper. Arguing with her won't do me any good. "Did you at least send her the COBRA forms?"

She looks long and hard at me, breathing in and out slowly before speaking. "I didn't realize you knew about that."

"Yeah, I looked it up. I had some time to kill." I tilt my head to the side, daring her to deny it's an option. "So, did you?"

She clears her throat. "Not yet, but I will."

I nod once, satisfied with her answer, before asking another pressing question. "Why was she asking for work anyway?"

"That you'd have to ask her."

I stare out the window in the direction Bella left, and I'm left with an uneasy feeling. If she's feeling desperate, like she's out of options, she could—

"You're getting too close to her, you know?"

I turn to my mother and narrow my eyes. "I'm making sure my brother's _widow_ and _son_ are okay. Why would you have a problem with that?"

She raises a brow. "Because I don't want to see my son get hurt ... again."

"And how on earth could I get hurt?"

She rifles through the papers on her desk, once again avoiding my eyes. "She did it once before, and—"

"Christ," I growl. "We were just kids who had no control over any of that shit. You know as well as I do what happened back then wasn't her fault."

Her eyes snap to me. "It may as well have been. Her father threatened to arrest you for sleeping with his sixteen-year-old daughter ... to charge you with statutory rape, Edward. You were barely nineteen. A baby. I didn't take that lightly then, and I don't now."

"That was a lifetime ago. _Ten years_. And do you even hear yourself? Her _father_ threatened it, not Bella. She had no more control over that than I did."

"And yet she still kept sniffing around," she insists. "She stayed in contact with your sister, even after—"

"Did you expect her to just stop talking to Ali? They were friends, Mom, long before we ever dated."

"She should have kept her distance. You have no idea how stressful that was, making sure you stayed away from her."

"Which is why I moved out that summer, so there was no reason for Bella to avoid Alice. It wouldn't have been fair to either of them. And I knew it was in my best interest—_Bella's_ best interest—to keep my distance, even though it almost killed me to stay away from her."

"I'm just glad you did."

I stare at her, wondering if she really comprehends how difficult that period of my life was. "Yeah, well, that wasn't too hard to do. I managed to push her away all on my own after I knocked up Angela, didn't I?"

I push out of my chair and through the door, heading for the clubhouse across the lot. I snag my cut from the hook in the entryway as I walk inside and go looking for Pop. I find him at the table and sit my ass in the chair across from him.

"What crawled up your ass?" he asks, looking up from his newspaper.

"Your wife," I say, lighting a cigarette. I inhale deeply, hoping the calming effect of the nicotine kicks in quick.

"My wife, huh?" He chuckles. "Not your mother?"

I level him with a stare.

He breathes a heavy sigh. "What's she done now?"

"As if cancelling Bella's insurance wasn't enough, she—"

"I told you I'd take care of that."

"Yeah, well, you better stay on her about it. I'm not sure she's going to do anything if we don't. But there's more. Bella came by the shop today, asking about a job, and Mom told her we were short a mechanic, not a secretary."

He shakes his head and looks up at the ceiling. "What is wrong with her?" he whispers.

"I don't know, but if you find out, can you let me know?" I rub a hand over my chest and lower my voice. "She had to know saying that shit would hurt Bella."

"What did Bella have to say about it? I'm sure she didn't take it lying down."

"I don't know. I didn't have a chance to talk to her before she peeled out of the lot."

"Is Buzz still keeping an eye on her?"

I nod as I flick the ash into the tray on the table. "Yeah. During the day."

"And at night?"

I look up at him but don't reply.

"Edward," he scolds, "I get that you want to keep an eye on her, but you're only giving your mother more ammunition. You know how she feels about Bella, and if she finds out you're—"

"She won't. And neither will Bella."

"Your mother finding out is debatable, but Bella ..."

"I've got this."

He watches me as I fidget with my smoke and avoid his narrowed gaze. "Be careful, son. It wasn't an issue when Masen was alive. Together or not, Bella would have been off limits after being your brother's old lady. That shit only brings drama, and that kind of old lady drama will rip a club apart from the inside. There are reasons those rules are in place. And now—"

"I said I've got this, okay? I'm doing what Mase asked me to do. I'm watching out for Bella and Sam. That's it."

He studies me, but thankfully, he doesn't press me to say more.

"Any word on Volturi?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"No, but someone called in. One of the regulars at Jack's Tavern who keeps us informed let us know one of the Kingsmen was in there recently. And he was asking around about Bella. Well, your brother more specifically. He was asking where Mase lived, where his old lady and kid lived."

"Shit," I whisper. "Did anyone talk?"

He shakes his head. "No. And as much as I don't like it, it's probably not a horrible idea for you to stay close to their place at night."

"Did he say if the guy mentioned what they might be looking for?"

"No, and I doubt we'll figure that out anytime soon."

"Do you think this has something to do with what happened to Gianna?"

The night of Masen's funeral, we found out from Vicki what had happened to Gianna Volturi. She wound up in an ER on the north side of the county with a broken jaw and a crushed larynx, and she'd suffered a miscarriage from multiple blows to her abdomen. To say we were all stunned would have been an understatement.

Pop and Tracker both thought that Masen had to be the one responsible. But thinking that my brother was capable of such violence against a woman didn't sit right with me. As much of an ass as he was to his wife, going ballistic on a woman seemed out of character for him. The only thing I can be thankful for is that whoever was sent to threaten Bella didn't use the same force, or right now we would be dealing with something else entirely.

"I don't think so. Running your brother off the goddamn road was the retaliation for that. No, this has to be about something different."

"But what?"

I think back to the days leading up to Masen's death. The night Bella kicked him out, Masen disappeared and didn't surface for a couple of days. And when he finally showed up at the clubhouse looking lost, I had no pity for him. He started running his mouth about how unfair life was, and finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I got in his face, and we argued. I reminded him of how unfair life was for all of us, and that he threw away the only good thing going for him through his own stupidity. I also threw a few punches to make sure he wouldn't soon forget. We didn't speak for days.

Less than two weeks later, he was dead.

"Whatever it is they're looking for, we need to figure it out, and soon. If they're sniffing around about Bella and Sam, it's only a matter of time before Caius does something that gets one of them hurt ... or worse."

* * *

It takes all of an hour after Bella leaves Cullen and Sons to get a call from Buzz. She's at McCarty Productions, meeting with Rosalie. After her disastrous meeting with my mother, I can only think of one reason Bella would visit Rose at the studio—to find work. It takes Mac _and_ Jazz to hold me back from going down there and demanding to know what the hell she's thinking.

I avoid my mother the rest of the week, not in the mood to listen to her bullshit about Bella. And apparently, I'm not the only one avoiding people.

Bella declines my calls and refuses to answer the door when I stop by on my way home, and as the days pass, nothing changes. Buzz checks in every day to let me know she reports to the studio at nine in the morning and leaves at two every afternoon to go pick up Sam.

It's driving me crazy, thinking about what she could be doing at the studio for Rose. It's one thing for the club to invest in McCarty's adult films, but it's quite another for Bella to have an active role in the business.

Nothing more is heard from any of Caius' crew, and for reasons I can't explain, the silence has me especially on edge. I spend my nights watching over Bella and Sam from my cage, parked on the street a few trailers down from theirs. I've had to cancel several visits with Seth, but for now, protecting Bella and Sam is my priority.

Two weeks of only getting cat naps during the day and short stretches of sleep in my car at night leave me grouchy and tired. When the following Saturday rolls around, I'm in absolutely no mood to deal with my mother, but duty calls. The Family Fun Day fundraiser at Seth and Sam's school is today. Esme volunteers the club's support, and all of us are at her mercy. The entire crew is helping in one way or another. Jazz and I help set up the concession stand where Mom, Ali, and a few of the other wives are cooking up a storm. Mac and Rose are running a face painting booth a few feet away, and the rest of the club members are enjoying the festivities with their families. Vendors and community groups from all over the county are here, hoping to raise enough money to pay for a local kid's medical bills.

"Thank you, baby." Mom kisses my cheek once I place the cooler on the ground. "That should do it for now. I probably won't need more ice for another hour, at least. Go see if your sister needs any help, please."

"You got it."

Ali has everything under control at the counter, so I set out to find my son. Angela told me they'd be here, so I'm hoping they're already milling around somewhere.

When I spot them, Seth is sitting next to Sam in the face painting booth, Rose working on both of them. Knowing those two, they asked for matching designs. Standing just behind them are Angela and Bella, the latter smiling softly as she listens to Ang talk.

My steps falter as I get closer, taking in Bella. The way the sun shines through her hair, her cheeks pink from an afternoon in the sun, and her laughter floating through the air. She's absolutely beautiful and looks so much like the carefree, young girl I fell in love with.

No good can come from standing here staring, so I stride in their direction, determined to talk to Bella.

"Edward!" Angela says as I approach. "Seth was just asking where you were."

"Yeah, sorry," I say, side-eying Bella. "Mom needed some help with a few things." I turn to make eye contact with Bella, but she looks toward the boys. "Good to see you two out today. I wasn't sure if you were going to make it."

"Sam wouldn't let us miss it," she says, still looking away from me. She turns to Angela. "Hey, I'm gonna go grab some water. Can you keep an eye on—" She points toward the boys.

"Sure," Ang replies, looking at me and back to Bella. "They're fine. Go ahead."

Bella takes two steps away before I follow, and she's so quick, I almost can't catch her.

"You're a slippery one today," I joke.

She says nothing, focused on her path.

"You're still not speaking to me?"

She spins around on her heel, and I nearly run into her. "I'll speak to you if you aren't going to lecture me."

"Lecture you? Why would I lecture you?"

She crosses her arms across her chest. "You forget how women talk, Edward."

"What are you talking about?"

She groans and drops her hands to her sides, turning and walking away from me.

"Hey!" I reach out, grabbing her arm and spinning her back toward me. "Are you going to keep acting like a child and ignore me, or are you going to talk to me like an adult?"

She shrugs out of my hold and takes a step closer, lowering her voice. "Rose told me how pissed you got when my _babysitter_ called you," she hisses. "She said Mac and Jazz had to _hold you down_, Edward. First of all, you have _no_ right to get upset with _any_ choice I make, and second of all, shame on you for assuming _anything_ about what I'm doing for Rose."

I stare down at her, the fire in my eyes reflected right back at me. Neither of us is willing to back down.

"So does that mean you're not"—I grind my teeth together—"in front of the cameras?"

"Not that it matters if I were, but no." Her arms once again cross over her chest. "I'm a little past my prime for that. Even so," she says, lifting her chin, "it's not your place to tell me what I can and can't do to support my son. If I wanted to go over to the next county to one of the strip clubs and dance, that's my fucking decision. It's none of"—she stabs a finger at my chest—"_your_ business."

I grab her hand and pull her just a little closer. "It is my business, Bella. Masen asked me to—"

"I don't give a _fuck_ what Masen asked you to do. You don't have the right to be upset with my choices."

"But ... why? What made you suddenly decide to start working for Rose?"

"Because my asshole boss decided I'd missed too many days. He took me off the schedule and didn't bother to tell me until I showed up for my shift one day." All the fight seems to leave her. "I'm doing what's best for my son," she says softly.

"You're right. Look, I'm sorry. I'm just—" I loosen my grip on her and take a half step back. "I talked to mom and found out what she said to you, how insensitive she was, and then you go off and start working for Rose. And this shit with Volturi." I meet her eyes. "I'm just worried about you."

"Is that why you're sleeping in your car at the end of my street every night?" She raises a brow.

My expression turns sheepish. "You knew about that?"

"I'm not as dim-witted as you seem to think, Edward. I _am_ aware of my surroundings, especially when I know there's some kind of lingering threat." She looks around before meeting my eyes once more. "Should I be worried? Buzz has still been around every day."

I sigh, sorry I don't have better news for her. "For now, we're just being cautious. Just consider it a personal escort wherever you need to go."

"Promise?"

"If I find out there's any direct threat or danger, I promise you'll be the next to know."

She nods but looks off toward the face painting booth. I turn to look too, and Seth and Sam are standing side by side with matching grins.

"Isn't Seth a little young to like the bad guy?" Bella asks as she stares at the boys with a smile on her face. Sam's face is painted as the quintessential hero, Spider Man, and my son, with a proud and crooked grin, is sporting the face of the anti-hero, Venom.

"Nah," I say, shaking my head as we start to walk toward them. "Maybe he's just like his old man." I turn to look down at her. "Maybe he likes to be the bad guy."

The rest of the day is spent running back and forth between helping out Mom, Ali, and the rest at the concession stand and catching up with Seth and Sam to play the carnival games. The two of them and Bella are never far from my line of sight. But as the sun begins to go down, an unease settles in my gut. I'm on high alert, watching for anything out of the ordinary. As darkness falls over the festival and the fireworks show starts, the sight of a retreating taillight catches my eye. As the rider passes under a streetlight, the flash of a familiar cut has me searching out Pop.

Someone was here who doesn't belong.

* * *

**A/N: **The Consolidated Omnibus Budget Reconciliation Act (COBRA) gives workers and their families who lose their health benefits the right to choose to continue group health benefits provided by their group health plan for limited periods of time under certain circumstances such as voluntary or involuntary job loss, reduction in the hours worked, transition between jobs, death, divorce, and other life events. Qualified individuals may be required to pay the entire premium for coverage up to 102% of the cost to the plan.****

**So, the big reveal was a little anti climatic, yeah? But now we know what broke them up. Some of you had guessed it was Bella being underage. And before you ask, in the state of Arizona, the age of consent is 18 with very few exceptions. Even the Romeo and Juliet laws common in so many states don't cover relationships that began before the older minor reaches 18. In my research for this one, I found AZ to have some pretty strict laws on this subject. It was very enlightening.**

**The finer details of what exactly happened between ExB will be revealed in Shift, which is in the soon-to-be-released Fandoms For Hope and Relief compilation. Chapter 1 will post to FFN on May 1 and every few days thereafter until completed.**

**How are we all doing? It's been another rough week for me and mine. On top of hubby working from home a few days a week and my kiddos settling into homeschooling until at least May 1, we've had a flooded basement, as well as extended family members who have possibly been exposed. I'm doing my best to keep my spirits high, and all of you are a huge part of that. Interacting with many of you on FB, reading your reviews, knowing I'm helping brighten your day with an update ... all of it helps me stay positive. Leaning on each other is what's going to get us through it.**

**My creativity has also taken a hit, and I'm starting to withdraw from my banked chapters, but there will for sure be updates for several more weeks. The pace of my writing just isn't what it was in Jan/Feb. Don't worry; words are coming, they're just very slow compared to the geyser in my head this story was when I started writing it. I'm hoping my muse decides to play nice and stop playing hide and seek. A few trips out on the motorcycle have helped a little with that, though. ;) Hopefully, I'll find my groove again. **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics, even if it's just to talk about your day or share a meme or joke. Anything to make each other smile. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**Songs**

**Heathens, twenty one pilots  
****Count on Me, Bruno Mars  
****You'll Be Okay, A Great Big World  
****Girls, Girls, Girls, Mötley Crüe  
****Monsters, Shinedown**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1**

* * *

****Strap on those brain buckets. We're shifting gears. ;)****

* * *

**Edward**

Smoke and dust motes fight for space in the Sunday morning sunlight filtering through the blinds of the chapel windows. Ten of us are packed around the table discussing how to handle our uninvited visitor from last night.

"We can't just ride up to Tucson, walk into the middle of town, and start asking questions! They'd blow our fucking heads off before we could get off our bikes." Trigger is standing at the edge of the table, obviously upset with my suggestion.

"Sit your ass down," Pop demands. "No one is riding to Tucson." He eyes me, waiting for me to object. "No one," he repeats.

"Look," I say, stubbing out my cigarette, "the fastest way to find out who it was is to ride up there. We snag one of those fuckers and bring him back here. I guarantee I'll get one to talk."

Pop leans back in his chair. "Trigger is right, E. The only thing riding up there will do is get us shot at. Let's make a few calls, see if anyone knows who's been sniffing around for information. Someone had to tell them the festival was this weekend. It wasn't just by chance he showed up when he did."

"So, we're gonna sit around and wait for their next move? That's bullshit."

"No, we're going to use our heads. And I suggest you start using yours." He stares at me, daring me to defy him. "Maybe your mother is right and you're too close to the situation."

I chuckle, not at all amused. "How far away do you expect me to be from it, huh? My brother was killed by one of those fuckers. Bella was already roughed up by one of them, and she tells me the guy threatened her and Sammy. How am I supposed to let that shit go? I promised Mase I'd—"

"Then you need to shut up and listen for a goddamn minute!" His edict is loud, and silence falls over all of us. "Now, I do actually have a suggestion if you want to hear it. If the guy was stupid enough to show up in such a public place, knowing we'd all be there, chances are he's not too bright. We can use that to our advantage."

"Either that or he's one cocky son of a bitch," Mac mumbles.

Pop points at Mac. "Or that. I say we go back to Jack's Tavern and ask some more questions. Maybe this guy has some ink or a defining mark so we can ID him. Hell, maybe our contact knows his name. But someone had to see him last night."

"In the meantime, do I have the okay to put two guys on Bella?"

Pop looks around the table. "Any objections to that?" Everyone shakes their heads. "Then do it. One prospect and a patched member on Bella and Sam at all times until we figure this shit out." With the decision made, the gavel falls.

* * *

"I'm telling you, Carl, he hasn't been back. Not since he was here asking about where Masen's old lady lived." Peter's eyes are all over the place, looking from us to the door then scanning the room, obviously uncomfortable about us being here.

"And that was two weeks ago?" I ask.

"Yeah. And no one was very eager to talk to him. He was smart, though, I'll give him that. He didn't walk in here wearing his cut. But he had the ink. He was definitely a Kingsman." He points to his chest at the opening of his shirt. "Had the crowned skull right there."

"You remember anything else about him? Scars? Any other ink you could see? Something that could help us pick him out?"

He crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at the table, deep in thought. "I don't know. Maybe?" He looks up at Pop and me. "It's dark in here, but I'm pretty sure he had an old scar on his face." He points to his cheek and draws his finger back toward his ear. "Looked like someone took a swipe at him a long time ago."

Pop reaches out a hand to shake. "Thanks, Peter. We'll be in touch."

Before we can both scoot out of the booth, Peter speaks up. "Uh, there's something else."

We both sit back down. "What is it?" Pop asks.

Peter suddenly looks nervous. "About a month and a half ago, Masen was in here a couple times."

Pop and I both lean forward. "When, exactly? Was he alone?"

"The first time was a few weeks before he died. And no, he wasn't alone. Some brunette chick met him here. They talked for a few minutes, but he was only here long enough to drink a beer, and then he left. The bartender said things got a little heated before he left, though."

I look over to Pop. "Think it was Gianna?"

"Could've been." Pop turns back to Peter. "What about the second time?"

"It was a week later, maybe a little more. He was alone that time. Sat at the bar and drank himself stupid. A couple of the regulars had to help him out the door. I'm pretty sure they checked him into a motel down the road."

"That was probably the night Bella kicked him out," I murmur.

"Anything else you remember?" Pop asks him.

Peter shakes his head. "No, that's it."

"Okay. Well, you give me a call if you remember anything else or one of Caius' guys shows up again."

"You got it, Carl." Peter reaches out once more for another handshake, and Pop and I make our way outside into the blazing afternoon sun.

"Any idea why he would've met Gianna here?" Pop asks me as he saddles up.

"Might have been the night she told him she was knocked up. But it feels like we're still missing a huge piece of the puzzle."

"We are, but at least now we have a pretty good idea who was asking questions about Bella and Sam. It had to be Aro. He's the only one I can think of who has a scar like that."

"Exactly. Which means we have a name."

He looks over at me as he grabs for his helmet. "You wanna be on the crew to go after him? Show him some Cullen hospitality?" he asks with a smirk.

I grin in return. "I wouldn't miss it."

On our way back to town, Bella calls, asking me to pick up Sam from school.

"_I tried Alice, but she can't get away from work. I refuse to call your mother. I called Angela, and she said you were getting Seth today. I hate to be a pain—_"

"Hey, it's okay. I don't mind." I lean against my bike, watching traffic whizz past us. "I'll get him. Don't worry about it."

"_Thank you. I just ... Rose asked me to go through some files, and it's taking a lot longer than I thought it would_."

"It's really no problem. What time do you think you'll be home?"

"_Probably not until late. Six maybe? Should I come get him, or—_"

"No, I'll bring him home. Ang is supposed to come by and get Seth around four-thirty, so I can bring Sam home afterward. And I still have a key, so don't rush home or anything."

"_Thank you, Edward. I mean ... I know I was kind of short with you Saturday, and well, I was kind of being a bitch._"

"Stop. It's fine. You had every reason to be pissed at me." I grin. "I was being an ass, and I know it."

"No, you weren't," she says softly. "You were just looking out for me. So ... thank you for that, too."

"I'll always look out for you, Bella. You and Sam." I blow out a breath and stand, ready to get back on the road. "So, I'll pick up the boys and bring Sam home. Deal?"

"Yeah. Thanks again."

"Everything okay?" Pop asks, putting his helmet back on.

I nod, fastening the strap of my own. "Everything's fine. Bella needs me to pick up Sam after school, so we better get back." I kick up the kickstand and start the engine. Looking over at Pop, he has a grin on his face. "What?"

He shakes his head, starting his own bike. "Nothing, son. Nothing at all."

* * *

"You boys want to stop for ice cream?" I ask the trouble twins in the back seat. My question is met with an enthusiastic response, so I turn at the next light and head toward downtown.

They both order twice as much as they could possibly eat, and we find a shaded picnic table to sit. They tell me about their day, and their excitement about the coming summer break is oozing out of them. When Seth spots a couple of classmates a few tables over, he scampers over to say hello, leaving Sam and me alone.

Once his cousin is gone, his excitement wanes, and his smile disappears.

"You doing okay, bud?"

He keeps his head turned down, his eyes never leaving what's left of his sundae. "Yeah."

"You sure?"

"I just miss my daddy," he whispers, his voice breaking on the last word.

"Oh, Sammy." I chuck what's left of my cone into the trash and pull my nephew into my lap. "We all miss him," I say, tears stinging my eyes.

He curls into me, his voice muffled against my chest. "Why did he have to go away, Uncle E?"

The wetness of his silent tears soaks through my t-shirt. I run a gentle hand through his hair and kiss the top of his head. "I'm so sorry, buddy. He didn't want to go away."

"But why?"

"I don't know. But I do know if he'd had a choice, he would have never left you."

"I just miss him."

I squeeze him tighter. "I know it's hard. It's a lot of big feelings you're feeling right now, and it's okay to cry when you're sad. It's okay to feel mad, too." I pull away and look down into his red-rimmed eyes. "I miss him too, so much. He was my brother, and I don't think there will be a day that goes by that I don't miss him."

"Even when I'm all grown up, I'll miss him?"

"Even then."

He tilts his head down, resting it against my chest again. "I forget him sometimes," he whispers.

"Forget him?"

"Like how he looked, how he sounded." He looks up at me. "What if I forget all of him?"

I smile, but it's a sad one. "Sammy, I promise you, you'll never forget him. Even if you forget how he looked or the sound of his voice, you'll always remember him. And besides, that's what pictures and videos are for. We'll all make sure you never forget him."

* * *

The trailer is empty when we get there. Warm and stuffy, I go to the thermostat and click it down a degree to kick on the AC. "Did you and your mom have a plan for dinner tonight?" I ask, peering into the sparsely filled refrigerator.

"Probably noodles or eggs again," he says as he sits at the table, opening his backpack and pulling out his folder.

I close the fridge door and turn to look at him. "_Again_? How many times do you have noodles or eggs, Sammy?"

He shrugs as he looks through his homework. "A lot. Almost every night."

"Because that's what you want or ..."

"It's just what Mommy makes us."

I furrow my brow and chew the inside of my mouth, pondering if I'm about to step on Bella's toes, but I decide to do it anyway. "What kind of pizza do you and your mom like, Sam?"

His eyes light up when he looks at me. "Cheese and pep-roni! Are we getting pizza?"

Before I can reply, the front door swings open, and a very tired-looking Bella walks in.

"Mommy!" Sam bolts from the table and wraps her in a huge hug. And by the looks of it, they both could use it. He tilts his head up, and I know he's gonna rat me out before I can get out of here. "Uncle Edward took me to get ice cream!"

"He did, huh?" Bella asks, looking my way.

I put my hands up in surrender. "Look, it's my right as an uncle to spoil my nephew every once in a while."

Bella smiles and looks down at Sam, ruffling his hair. "I'm glad you had fun." She extricates herself from Sam's grasp and walks toward the kitchen. "Now, what are we having for dinner?"

"Pizza!" Sam shouts.

Bella chuckles as she pulls a box of elbow macaroni from the cabinet. "Pizza, huh?" She turns to look at Sam with a grin on her face. "Are you buying tonight?"

I raise my hand. "Actually, I am."

She's shaking her head before she opens her mouth. "No, Edward, we can't—"

I'm already running my hand up the chain connecting my wallet to my jeans, pulling the leather from my pocket. "I can, and I am." I pull a twenty out and hand it to her. "This should cover it."

She takes it, albeit reluctantly. "Thanks," she says softly, looking up at me. "You don't have to do that."

"I know I don't. But I _want_ to."

Sammy runs up to give me a hug. "Thanks, Uncle E."

I ruffle his hair. "Anytime, bud."

Bella clears her throat. "Do you want to stay?"

"Yeah, stay, please," Sam pleads. His eyes are wide, and much like his cousin's, they're hard to deny.

But before I can say yes, my phone rings. "Hold that thought, okay?"

Sam pulls away, and I reach for my phone. "Yeah?"

"We have a lead on where Aro will be tonight," Pop says. "You still want in on this?"

I look at Bella and Sam's hopeful faces, and I have to turn away. "Yeah, I do. When?"

"It'll be a few hours. But it's a bit of a drive. I'd say head this way now. You and the boys need to plan this."

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

I turn back to them as Sam and Bella's faces fall, and I feel like shit for disappointing them. "Rain check?"

"Sure," Bella replies. "Soon?"

"I won't miss it." With a kiss to Sam's head and another to Bella's cheek, I head outside. Before I reach my cage—the black 1969 Chevy Nova SS that doesn't get nearly enough time on the road—I shout over to Trigger and Buzz. "You two gonna be able to stay tonight?"

"Yeah. You comin' back to relieve us later?" Trigger asks.

I nod. "I'll try. But if not, I'll send someone."

They both nod, and I start my engine, ready to get some goddamn answers.

* * *

"Check out the pair on that one," Mac says, staring toward the center stage.

I turn my head to see what all the fuss is about. "Eh, I've seen bigger." I tilt my glass up, wishing it were something stronger. But I can't afford not to be on point tonight.

"Yeah, but they're still pretty impressive," he mumbles, turning back to the bar.

"Can you concentrate, please?" I lift the backwards cap I'm wearing to scratch my head and then tug it back into place. "I don't want to miss Aro slipping out of here." I glance back toward the stage before grinning at Mac. "Besides, I've always been of the opinion that more than a mouthful's a waste."

His loud guffaw is drowned out by the thumping bass streaming through the speakers. Everywhere you look, men are hypnotized by the dancers on stage, all of them in various states of undress. To say I'm not aroused would be a lie, but we're not here tonight for the entertainment.

Seated near the center stage, soaking up the attention of the buxom blonde Mac seems to be so fond of is the man of the hour. Aro Volturi, Caius' brother and club VP of the Kingsmen, arrived over an hour ago, and he's several drinks in. He also arrived alone. It's something we can use to our advantage.

I've been watching the women walking around, too. I can spot at least three that have been entertaining guests in the private rooms in the back. I've also been watching Aro watch _them_. If I were a betting man, I'd bet he's planning on springing for a private dance at some point tonight, which will make what we have planned that much easier.

Before I can get the attention of one of the ladies who would make that happen, a grating, cocky voice carries over the music.

"Oh, yeah, I'm just biding my time. She'll be back, begging for her job, and I'll give it to her ... just as soon as _she_ gives it to _me_." Mike Newton is dressed like the poster boy for a fucking Tommy Hilfiger ad or some shit. His skinny jeans and tight t-shirt under a brown blazer seem ridiculously out of place for an establishment of this ... _caliber_.

I watch him in the reflection of the mirror over the bar as he talks to the equally douchey-looking guy beside him, and I tilt my head just the right way to hear both of them.

"I thought you said her husband just died. Don't you think it'll be a while before she's ready to hop into bed with someone else?" douchebag number two asks.

Mike shrugs. "Maybe." He turns to his friend. "But when she is, I'll be waiting. It's not like she has many options in a town like ours. I mean, we have to drive almost an hour to get to a dump like this. Our town is like a little time capsule. Nothing ever changes. There's nowhere for her to find another job." He leans closer to his buddy and lowers his voice just a little. "She'll be begging me in no time."

Before I realize what I'm doing, I'm rising from my barstool, but Mac stops me, getting a firm grip on my shirt.

"We're not here for that," he reminds me. "Focus, E. We deal with Aro tonight, and soon enough, we can deal with needle dick." He cocks a brow as I lower my ass back to the stool. "You cool?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

He nods once. "Good, because I'm pretty sure we're almost up," he says, nodding toward our target for the evening.

Aro is in conversation with one of the scantily clad women, probably asking about that private dance. When he rises from his table and disappears behind a black curtain past the stage, I know it's showtime. As another girl zips past us toward the bar, I get her attention.

"Hey, sweetheart." I flash a grin, and her eyes light up.

"Hey, handsome. What can I do for you?" She runs a hand up my arm, her fingers swirling over the ink there.

I look her up and down. "I was hoping my friend and I could get a private show."

Her eyes flash to Mac and back to me, and her smile widens. "Follow me, boys." She grabs my hand and leads us toward the back, the three of us disappearing through the same black curtain. There are only three rooms back here, and only one of them is closed. Once we're in our own room, she directs us to sit on the oversized plush chair. Mac plops down in the center of it, and I sit on the armrest, crossing my arms over my chest and waiting for her to get to it.

Places like this usually have live-feed security cameras in the rooms to protect their girls, so we'll have to let her do her thing long enough not to rouse suspicion. It also gives Aro time to finish up next door. The girl starts by twirling around, peeling off piece after piece of her already-minimal clothing until she's left in nothing more than a sheer bra and panty set. I lean back and smile, enjoying the show, but I know our time is almost up. When she reaches for the clasp at her back, I put out a hand.

"That's enough, sweetheart."

"But, I—"

"You did great. Here." I pull a bill from my pocket and hand it over with a smile. "You were perfect."

She inspects the C-note and smiles. "Thanks, boys. Have a great night." She gathers her clothes and pops out of the room.

"Man, it was just about to get good," Mac whines.

I laugh and slap him across the chest once. "Come on, you horny fucker. Let's go get our guy before he ducks out of here."

We open the door and peek out into the hall. It's deserted, so we wait. As soon as the next door opens and Aro steps out, we walk up behind him.

"Funny meeting you here," I say as I wrench his arm, pulling him toward the door at the end of the hall, which leads outside. Mac has his other arm, and with all the booze running through Aro right now, he's confused long enough for us to make our exit. Boomer catches up with us, his job of erasing security footage and disabling the alarm done, so we're able to wrestle Aro outside without a sound.

Waiting just outside is the van, with the rear door already open and waiting. Jazz's smiling face greets us when the van doors open.

"Time for some fun, boys!"

* * *

I pull back and punch him in the gut again, Aro doubling over in the chair he's tied to. "I asked you a question!" I shout. "What do you want with Masen's old lady?"

Aro coughs, groaning as he tries to right himself. "I told you, I don't know! Caius told me to find her. That's it."

Staring down at this spineless prick, my chest is heaving, and truth be told, I'm itching for a fight. "You're lying." I turn back to Jazz. "Get the pliers."

The smile Jazz gives me should scare the shit out of me, but it doesn't. Honestly, I'm getting as much enjoyment out of this as he seems to be getting."

"Where do I start?" Jazz asks as he opens and closes the pliers, the tool inching toward Aro's mouth. He reaches inside to get a good hold on what I'm pretty sure is a bicuspid and pulls.

"Stop!" Aro shouts, spitting blood to the floor. "I'll tell you, just ... stop. I'll tell you what you want to know."

"Why are you sniffing around, asking about Masen's old lady, Aro? The truth this time."

He stares up at me, and if looks could kill, I'd be dead on the spot. "Caius said your brother took something that wasn't his before he died, and he wants it back."

"We already know about Gianna. That shit should be over and done with. Caius got his retaliation for his daughter by killing my brother. Masen is _dead_. What else is there?"

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure _anything_ is over and done," he says with an evil chuckle, his eyes blinking. The alcohol is obviously clouding his judgment, because what he says next blows my mind. "Caius found out that little whore daughter of his was fucking one of you assholes." He spits at my feet. "He made sure she wouldn't forget who she should be loyal to. Kicked that bastard right out of her."

I look over to Tracker, and he raises a brow.

"Then he made sure you fuckers remembered who you were dealing with. Masen was just the first to get a taste of what the Kingsmen can do. Caius isn't anywhere near done with you. Hunting down your brother's old lady and her brat is just the beginning." He scans the room, his vision likely obscured by his swollen lids. He turns back to me. "He's been itching to take over this territory for years. The Outcasts have been in his way between here and the border for far too long. And when one of them steals from his pockets, he feels like it's the right time to make a move on this shit town." His bloodied smile and glinting eyes are unsettling. "After he gets wind of what you've done with me, consider it open season on the Devil's Outcasts."

I lean in close, resting my hands on the armrests of his chair and lowering my voice. "Not if they don't find your body." I pull my gun from my waistband and put it under his chin. "When you get to hell"—I pull back on the slide, pushing the barrel further into his throat—"save a spot for your piece of shit brother."

Without a second thought, I pull the trigger.

* * *

**A/N: So, that happened. Things are about to ramp up. And remember, this one is STRONGLY inspired by Sons of Anarchy. And those of you who watched the show know how much of a dark turn that took. While I'm not taking us down as dark a path, this one is labeled drama and angst for a reason. If you have any concerns, just shoot me a PM.**

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics, even if it's just to talk about your day or share a meme or joke. Anything to make each other smile. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**Songs **

**Heavydirtysoul, twenty one pilots  
****Bad Company, Five Finger Death Punch  
****Brighter Side of Grey, Five Finger Death Punch  
****Indifference, Pearl Jam  
****What Are You Waiting For, Disturbed**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1.**

* * *

***Slick back - cut worn by a club prospect.  
*****A/N at the bottom regarding character names.**

* * *

**Edward**

"Call Carl," I say to no one in particular, tucking my gun into the back of my pants. "And somebody help me with this."

Tracker walks to the other side of the room to make the call, and Mac and Jazz help me untie Aro's body from the chair.

"How do you wanna do this, E? He can't be found," Mac says.

I look to Jazz. "Your buddy at the funeral home still owe you a solid?"

He nods, and a wide smile forms on his face. "Yeah. He does. That's an _excellent_ idea."

The warehouse we're in is full of random shit, and Boomer spots a sheet of plastic large enough to roll Aro's body in. Conveniently, Jazz had the foresight to bring along a jug of bleach, so we scrub the bits of Aro off the cement floor. It takes two of us to lift the body into the van, and the five of us ride back to town in near silence.

"Your guy gonna meet us there?" I ask Jazz.

"Yeah. He said to give him an hour, give or take."

I nod, absentmindedly staring out the window.

"Carl called for an emergency church meeting," Tracker pipes up from the backseat. "He said to head to the clubhouse as soon as we're done cleaning up."

I hum, lost in my thoughts.

"If what Aro said is true, we're at war, brother," Mac says from behind me.

"I know." I turn in my seat to face them all. "It also means my brother was murdered, and not killed as some bullshit retaliation." I meet each of their gazes. "It means Caius Volturi is a dead man."

* * *

The sun isn't up yet when Jazz's buddy, Colin, pulls into the rear lot of the funeral home.

"We need to make this quick," he mutters as he unlocks the door that leads inside. "I have another one scheduled for nine o'clock."

Jazz slaps Colin on the shoulder. "You're a good man. This means a lot to the club, too. I know you still owed me one for taking care of that issue with your old lady's ex, but this goes above and beyond. We won't forget it any time soon."

Colin turns to look at all of us. "What did this guy do to wind up here?" he asks, pointing at Aro's plastic-wrapped corpse.

I step forward. My first instinct is to tell him he's asking too many questions, but Jazz puts a hand out to stop me.

"He was threatening a young widow and her son. He'd been following her, just waiting for a chance to hurt her." Jazz raises a brow. "Sound familiar?"

Colin nods and turns another dial, pointing to the steel door. "With anyone else, I'd probably say a few words out of respect, you know? But just toss that piece of shit in there."

"Gladly," I say, helping Mac and Boomer lift Aro's body to the door and unceremoniously shoving him through it.

Colin presses a button, and what's left of Aro Volturi is consumed by the flames.

* * *

"Hey, I'll grab a prospect and head over to Bella's to relieve Trigger and Buzz. Then I'll send them back here." Mac nods toward the clubhouse. "Carl isn't going to want to wait too long for church."

"Thanks, man. If you talk to Bella, tell her I'm sorry for—"

"I got it covered," he says as he walks toward his bike. "You were needed elsewhere. Just fill me in later on what happens here."

I nod and head toward the clubhouse. I grab my cut from the hook as I walk through the door, saying hello to the guys who are already here. Judging by the expressions on their faces, I'd guess word has already gotten out about why we've all been called to church so fucking early.

I head straight for the kitchen, hoping one of the prospects has made a fresh pot of coffee, because I desperately need it.

"Is it done?" Pop asks as he leans against the counter beside me.

"Yeah. There won't be a trace of Aro left for anyone to find," I say as I fill a mug.

"And you covered your tracks?"

I nod as I bring my mug to my lips, blowing across the top. "Boomer fucked with the security footage, and Jazz got rid of his bike while Mac and I were inside. We're covered."

Pop slaps a hand to my back. "That's what I like to hear."

* * *

"So, he just _told_ you all of that?" Tank asks. "I'm finding it hard to believe Aro just spilled his guts after you yanked one fucking tooth."

"He did. But E and I had worked him over pretty good before we brought out the tools. He was still pretty liquored up, too," Jazz says, leaning forward, his elbows on the table. "The only thing he didn't say was what Masen had supposedly taken from them."

Pop thrums his fingers on the table, his brow furrowed. "So according to Aro, Mase didn't lay a finger on Gianna?"

I shake my head. "No. Aro said it was Caius. Whatever injuries she got were from her old man."

"He's a sick son of a bitch, I'll give him that," Pop mumbles. "But now we know Masen's death wasn't retaliation for Gianna, which means he was murdered, and it's _our_ turn for retaliation." He looks around the room, meeting each and every set of eyes. "I'm leaving it for a vote. I'm asking all of you to get justice for my son, your _brother_. It's not going to be pretty. If the Kingsmen are after us and our territory, we're putting our lives on the line with this. They're going to be out for blood. I don't take that lightly."

Tank meets Pop's gaze. "You and I were around the first time we went up against them, and I'll be by your side this time, too. You have my vote."

Pop nods and turns next to Tracker. "What about you?"

"Sounds like they're coming for us whether we want a war or not. I say we strike first. I'm in."

Each man seated at the table votes yes, leading lastly to me.

"E?"

I look around the table at all my brothers. "They murdered one of us. Ran my brother off the road and drove over his body. Then they hauled him to a ditch and carved up his face. As a family, it's our job to get justice for our brother." I look back to Pop. "I vote yes."

Pop nods. "Then we gather information and make a plan. We can't afford to take any unnecessary risks. Aro disappearing will buy us a little time. He's got a reputation for disappearing across the border for days at a time, so there's no reason Caius won't think his brother's done the same thing this time. But we still need to be on guard. Eventually, people will start asking questions. And if Caius ordered him to go after Bella and is planning to come after all of us, not only are we targets, but every one of our families is, too. A man who would beat his own daughter—who threatens a woman and her kid—is the worst kind of scum." A wide grin takes over his face. "And I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'll enjoy being the ones who send him to hell."

* * *

Determined to catch some sleep, I walk down the hall toward my room, but then I stop at the door to Masen's room. I've been avoiding going inside, and as far as I know, no one else has packed it up. Mom has already said she won't do it. She thinks it's Bella's job. But I'm pretty sure Bella has no intention of stepping one foot through this door. She's not stupid. She knows this is where Masen probably fucked his way through dozens of girls while they were married. She would rather lose whatever shit Masen left here than face what the room represents.

Some memories are best forgotten.

I turn the knob and push the door open. It's stuffy and dusty, obviously unused for weeks. Crumpled bedsheets and dirty clothes cover the bed. Empty glasses and bottles line the dresser top, and a dirty ashtray holds several discarded butts. I walk slowly toward the bed and sit on the edge, staring at my reflection in the mirror over the dresser. Pictures tucked into the frame around it stare back at me. Smiling faces of friends and family and pictures of Bella and Sam. But what catches my eye is a photo of Masen and Bella. Given the bike Bella is straddling, and the slick back Masen is wearing, it has to be from just before Bella got pregnant with Sam, back when I had come to accept that she'd moved on with my brother.

I rise to my feet and snatch it off the mirror. Their smiling faces, Bella's especially, are so young, so innocent, but still aware of some of life's hardships, how complicated it can become. I slip the picture into my pocket and then notice a stack of envelopes on the dresser top—one for Bella, one for Sam, and one with my name scrawled across the front.

Taking the one meant for me over to the bed, I sit down, opening the flap and unfolding the letter inside.

_Edward,_

_Well, shit. I guess this is it. If you're reading this, I've taken my last ride. All I can say is I'm sorry. Damn, it feels like all I've done lately is apologize. I've managed to fuck up just about everything, haven't I?_

_I'm going into what I'm about to do knowing it's probably going to get me killed. But I have to do this. So, this letter is my insurance policy, I guess. I'm going after Caius. We all know no one in the Kingsmen does so much as scratch his own ass without Caius' say so. He went after my wife, and I can't live with myself until I know I've done everything I can to make that shit right. If he gains the upper hand and I don't make it back, I need you to watch over Bella and Sam. And for you to be able to do that, it means I need to tell you what else I've done. _

_Everybody knows I've done a shit job of supporting my family. It seems like we've been playing catch up forever, and we've never been able to get ahead. One of the biggest reasons Bella and I fought was over us still living with Gran. I always felt like a failure as a husband, as a father, because I couldn't give them our own place. And when one thing after another kept piling on top of us, I got desperate. _

_I met up with Gianna a couple of weeks ago, and I asked her to snag a brick of Caius' H for me to sell for extra cash. I still haven't gotten rid of it, E. I need you to go to our self-storage place and get rid of that shit before Bella finds it. Before Caius comes looking for it. It's in a drawer in the roll around. The keys to everything are in my dresser's top drawer._

_I __know__ it was stupid, but I thought if I got some extra cash I could get ahead. Finally get us a place of our own. Fix my fucking family. All I did was make an even bigger mess and lose my wife. And I know I've betrayed my club, my brothers ... you. _

_All I can hope for now is your forgiveness. _

_I'm sorry, Edward. If I had it to do over, I would do so many things differently. I would do anything I could to make Bella smile more. Take care of my family. If you don't, I'll come back and haunt your ass._

_~Masen_

I crumple the papers in my fist, my jaw tightening as my head falls into my other hand. How the fuck am I supposed to look my father—or any one of my brothers—in the eye knowing Masen betrayed all of us?

Just the thought of the position Masen's put me in—one where I need to either tell the club what he's done or keep his secret—makes me fucking angry. His need to fix shit and prove himself not only got him killed, but now it's put Bella and Sam in danger.

And I'm left once again to clean up his mess.

When the door hinge squeaks, I look up, and I'm met with the not-so-timid eyes of a house mouse.

"Hey, E."

"Hey, Rina." I toss the crumpled letter on the nightstand and look back at her. "What's up?"

"You look really stressed," she says as she closes the door and walks toward me. She steps between my spread legs, bringing my head to her bare stomach and running her fingers through my hair. "I can help you with that."

Her fingertips trail down the back of my neck, disappearing into my shirt, and for a moment, I allow myself to get lost in the comfort she's offering. I close my eyes, and my other senses are filled with her. The smell of her skin, the softness of it tickling my nose, and I can only hum in response.

Like a slinking cat, she sinks to her knees, slowly opening my belt as she stares up at me. "I know what you need, baby."

Her wet kisses on my chest, my abdomen, the trail of hair leading south, end with her lips wrapping around my cock. My eyes close, and for a moment, another time and place flash behind my closed lids. My heart pounds in my chest as the memory hits me like a tidal wave. Brown hair and brown eyes catching the sunlight in the backseat of my Nova. My hands teaching her what I liked and learning what made her feel good. My eyes fly open, looking down into bright blues in an effort to come back to the present.

I gather her blonde hair in my hand, gently guiding her over me, tilting my head back and groaning as she hollows out her cheeks, practically swallowing me whole. With no effort to hold back, I come down her throat, my eyes locked on a picture of Bella still hanging on my brother's mirror.

I fall back onto the bed, my chest heaving and my heart still pounding. Without a word, Rina slips out of the room, closing the door behind her.

* * *

It's a slow process to box up everything in Masen's room, but I figure if I don't do it now, it may not get done. And if things with Volturi go south at some point, chances are we're going to have to go into lockdown and bring our families here to keep them safe. We're going to need the space.

I fill two garbage bags with trash and bundle all the dirty clothes in his dirty sheets to be washed. Odds and ends we can use, like tools, are boxed up to take to the shop, and anything without any sentimental value is boxed up for the rest of the guys to go through. I pack up his pictures and personal shit to take home. There may come a day when Bella or Sam wants it.

A knock on the door startles me, and for a brief moment, I hope it isn't Rina coming back for round two. But I shake away the thought and yell for whoever it is to come in.

"Hey," Mac says as he walks in. "You need any help?" He looks around the room, looking as clueless as I feel about what to do with all this shit.

"No, I think I got it under control."

"Find any good stuff?" he asks, waggling his eyebrows.

I laugh. "Like what?"

Mac shrugs. "I don't know. Mase was as much of a horny fucker as I am. He's bound to have some decent porn around here somewhere."

"Says the man whose wife runs a porn studio."

"What? She keeps the same girls on staff, E. After a while it's the same shit with a new cock thrown into the mix every once in a while. Variety is the spice of life, my man."

"No, I haven't run across his porn stash."

"Well, that's a shame." He reaches for an abandoned pack of smokes on the nightstand. "These free game?"

"Sure. Knock yourself out."

He lights one, blowing the smoke into the air as he looks around. "You find any other stashes?" he asks with a cocked brow.

"Not yet. But he's bound to have left something here. I know he didn't do that shit at home. He didn't want it around Sam."

"I know Mase and Bella had their problems, but he loved his kid."

I nod. "He did."

"And I know he'd want you to look after him ... both of them."

"Yeah," I murmur.

"I also know he wouldn't want you to beat yourself up for having feelings for Bella."

My head pops up, and I meet his expectant eyes.

"I'm serious, brother. If you've forgotten, I was around back when your life imploded and you had to give her up. I know you were all kids, but I also know you really loved her. Feelings like that don't just go away. Not even when everyone moves on."

"Yeah, well, people change. We all grew up." I go back to my task of shoving shit in a box.

"Not a single one of us would think badly of it if you two got back together. I loved Mase, but you and I both know he checked out on her a while ago. And she isn't going to stay single forever. So, you need to ask yourself if you're willing to watch her be happy with someone else ... again."

I don't reply, confused as fuck and angry at Mac for even bringing it up. "Did you talk to Pop or Jazz about what was said in church?" I ask, hoping to change the subject.

He narrows his eyes, but answers with a sly grin. "I did. Sounds like it's hunting season on the Kingsmen."

I smile in return. "It is. And I'm telling you now, I'm gonna be the one to take out Caius. That fucker is mine."

The corner of Mac's mouth lifts in a half grin. "You just might have some competition, E. He hurt one of us, he hurt all of us. Mase was as much my brother as he was yours. We all have a reason to take him out. But," he says, pausing to take a drag from his smoke and blow it out, "since he went after Bella, maybe he's yours after all."

* * *

**A/N: Still with me? **

**I've been an utter fail at responding to reviews, and I'm still not getting PM notifications from FFN, so if you've sent me one, it's possible I've missed it. And if I have been able to reply, you might have something in your FFN inbox. Be sure to check!**

**For those of you who are still confused by the nickname situation, just a friendly reminder that MC members typically have road names. I've not given the characters nicknames with the intent to write and P2P as one reviewer suggested last week. This story isn't quite original enough to publish as an original fiction, IMO. If this were ever to be published, it would need a pretty serious overhaul. But it should be fairly easy at this point to figure out at least a few of the Twi characters. If I'm being honest, I'd say don't get too hung up on the names. They're really pretty irrelevant, IMO, as most of these characters are OOC anyway. But if you **_**really**_** need to know, here ya go.**

**Carl/Pop - Carlisle  
****Jazz - Jasper  
****Mac - Emmett  
****Tank - Felix  
****Tracker - James  
****Boomer - Liam  
****Hawk - Garrett  
****Rooster - Alistair  
****Trigger - Alec  
****Buzz - Eric **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics, even if it's just to talk about your day or share a meme or joke. Anything to make each other smile. I've posted some visual aids as well, so you can see what I imagine some of these characters to look like. I also share teasers and chapter pics in my group every week. You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

**Songs**

**Talk Dirty, Jason Derulo  
****Everything Changes, Staind**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1.**

* * *

**Bella**

"Oh, Daddy." The squeak that comes from the pig-tailed woman on set as the man's hand comes down on her ass is cartoonish. "More, Daddy. I've been _sooo_ bad."

I walk toward Rose, keeping my eyes focused on my boss and trying not to laugh. I've been working here for a few weeks, but no matter how many times I've been on set, I still get the giggles when I see the actors going at it.

Rose is in her director's chair, pointing and, well, directing the scene before her. I stand at her side until she turns her head toward me.

"Do you need something, Bella?"

"I just need you to sign this." I hand her the folder with the paperwork to sign. My eyes are drawn to the set.

"What is this?"

I shake my head and turn back to her. "Oh, it's an order that needs to be placed within the hour. I wasn't sure how long this was going to take," I say, motioning toward the actors. I lower my voice. "Do people really pay to watch this shit?"

"If they didn't, we wouldn't be here. Why? Doesn't this get your motor humming?" she asks with a devious grin.

"Not in the slightest." I start to walk away, but Rose reaches out and grabs my wrist, yanking me back to her.

She pulls me close enough to whisper in my ear. "You know, I can set you up with one of these guys." She points to the man on set who's still paddling the pert ass of the woman lying across his lap. "It's been a while since you've gotten your bean waxed, Bella. You need to get laid."

"No, I think I'll pass," I say, unable to contain my amusement.

"Hey, don't laugh. At least these guys would know what they're doing."

"I'm sure they would. But I'm perfectly content right now, Rose. I'm not ready to hop into bed with anyone, casual or otherwise. And even when I am, I don't think that's my style," I say, tilting my head toward the actors, who are now full-on fucking now. "That's my cue to leave," I say with widened eyes.

"You don't know what you're missing, hon," Rose says as I walk away.

Still giggling, I turn the corner, intending to return to the office, but instead, I collide with a firm chest. Strong hands grab my arms to steady me. I reach up reflexively and meet the familiar feel of sun-warmed leather.

"You should watch where you're going," Edward says with a deep chuckle. He glances around me and down the hall before looking back to me. "You might run into one of those oiled-up, hairless wonder cocks." He lowers his voice. "Is it true they all take Viagra to keep it up so long?"

I laugh and push away, walking around him toward the office, passing Mac and Boomer as they walk the other way. "I wouldn't know what you're talking about. I stay at my desk unless I can't help it. But you did miss a schoolgirl spanking scene a few minutes ago."

"No shit?" He looks over his shoulder and down the hallway before following me into the office.

"I didn't know that did it for you."

"All that shit does it for me. What can I say? I'm a guy." He shrugs.

I shake my head in amusement as I sit in my chair. "So, what brings you to McCarty Productions? Do you need to talk to Rose about something?"

He shakes his head. "No, I need to talk to you, actually." His eyes meet mine, and his voice doesn't sound as lighthearted as it did just moments ago.

His change in tone grabs my attention, immediately setting me on edge. "What is it?"

Edward blows out a breath and reaches inside his cut to pull out two small envelopes. "I found these in Mase's room at the clubhouse." He places them on my desk and pushes them toward me. "There's also a box of other shit you might want, but it can wait until you're ready to go through it. I thought you'd want these, though."

I stare down at the seemingly harmless squares of paper, fingering the edges. My name and my son's name, written in Masen's nearly illegible scrawl, dredge up feelings I'm not ready to deal with, especially while I'm at work. I'm certain reading his final words will be difficult, emotionally draining, and right now it feels like an insurmountable task. And the mere thought of going through another box of his things makes my stomach ache. "I don't want any of that stuff," I whisper.

"You might want some of it for Sam, Bella."

"I'll think about it," I say softly, my eyes not leaving the letters.

"You don't have to read those right away, you know. You can take as much time as you need."

I nod once. "I know." I clear my throat and snatch the letters off the desktop, stuffing them in a drawer before looking up at him. "Thank you for bringing these over."

"You're welcome," he says, studying me closely. "You gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine. It's just a lot to process right now." His expression changes, and the worry in his eyes sounds alarm bells in my head. "What?"

"I know you have a lot on your plate, but there's something else I need to talk to you about."

"What is it?"

"I promised you I'd tell you if you were in any real danger."

My first thought is of my son. I rise to my feet and start gathering my things. "What's going on?" I ask, my voice cracking. "Is Sammy—"

"Hey," he says, reaching a hand out toward mine, halting my frantic movements. "Sam is fine. We have a couple of guys keeping watch over at the school." He tilts my chin up to look into my eyes. "I swear to you Sam is safe."

"What's going on, Edward?"

"We got confirmation that one of Caius' guys was trailing you and Sam."

"Oh, my god." I cover my face with my hands.

He pulls gently at my wrists, pulling my hands from my eyes. "He's not a threat anymore, okay? But we were able to find out Caius has bigger plans than terrorizing you."

"Is this because of what Masen did? Is this all over that stupid little girl?" My voice raises with every word. "I _told_ him he was going to start something!"

"Hey, stop. I think what Mase did only put the plans Caius already had into motion. All that shit only sped up his timeline."

Feeling unsteady and not trusting my legs to hold me up, I sit back down. "What now?"

"Well, we have some time. Caius won't be any wiser about us knowing his plans for a little while. The kids are almost out for summer break, and I think it might be best for you to get out of town for a few weeks."

The sheer ridiculousness of the idea makes me laugh. "Yeah, because I can just pack up and go on vacation for a few weeks." I swallow, trying to rid my voice of the tremble that won't go away. "Edward, I can't afford to take off that much time, not to mention I can't afford any kind of vacation."

His lips thin, and his eyes narrow. "Would you consider sending Sammy away?"

"You want me to send my son away ... without me? Where? Are you out of your goddamn mind?"

"Hear me out. I talked to Angie, and they're going to take an extended trip to Cali. Hit Disneyland and the beach. I want Seth far away from this shit, too. I already asked her about you two tagging along, and if you absolutely refuse to go, I'm sure she wouldn't mind taking Sam."

"I don't ... I don't know. How long do I have to decide?"

He crouches down in front of me. "They're leaving the day after school is out. So, you have a week."

I nod and whisper, "Okay. I'll think about it and let you know."

"In the meantime, I want you to carry. Did Mase keep any of his pieces at home, or do I need to bring you one?"

I clear my throat. "I have one."

"And you feel comfortable with it? Do you remember how to use it?"

"I do."

"Good. You're also going to have a more obvious shadow. We've kept our distance the last few weeks, but you're going to notice us now." He reaches for my hand, and I let him take it. "I can't let anything happen to you, Bella."

He leans forward, and for a brief moment, I think he's going to kiss me. But instead, his lips press to my forehead, and I close my eyes. The earnestness in his voice and the warmth of his lips make my heart race. But the spell is broken when he clears his throat and rises to his feet.

"I'm gonna go find Boomer and see if he needs help double-checking the security system." He steps toward the door but turns before he walks through it. "Let me know when you're ready to leave and I can follow you home."

Dumbly, I nod and turn back to my desk, suddenly unsure about so many things.

* * *

The pickup line at the school is long, and in an effort to save on gas, I have the engine off with the windows rolled down as I wait for the kids to be released. I glance into the rearview mirror and spot my shadows.

Edward and Hawk are maybe a hundred feet away, sitting on their bikes in a shady spot. Their eyes are hidden by their sunglasses, but I have no doubt they're scanning our surroundings. If anyone were to strike right now, I'm essentially a sitting duck.

The doors of the school open, and a horde of smiling kids file out, including Sam.

"Mommy!" he yells as he runs toward the car.

It never fails to make me smile, the way he so enthusiastically greets me, even though we do this every day.

"Hey, baby. How was your day?"

He climbs in through the rear door and settles into his booster seat. "Good! We cleaned out our cubbies today," he says, holding up a plastic shopping bag of odds and ends.

"Wow. Is it that time already?"

"Yep," he says, nodding his head as he fastens his seatbelt. "Just a few more days and it'll be summer!"

I start the car and shift it into drive, pulling away from the curb. "Wow. Summer break."

"Mommy, Seth said he's going to Disneyland when school's out. Can we go? Please?"

"Baby, Disneyland costs a lot of money. I don't know if I can make that happen."

"Oh," he says, his smile vanishing before my eyes as he stares out the window. "Can we go _somewhere_? All my friends are going places, and it sounds like fun to go on a trip."

I swallow the lump in my throat, wishing I could give this little boy the world and regretting he's never had the experience of a family vacation. As much as I hate the idea of being separated from him for any amount of time, maybe it would be good to send him with Angela and Ben.

"We'll see, buddy. Okay?"

* * *

"Why is Uncle Edward outside?" Sam asks as he peeks out the window. He looks over his shoulder at me. "Is he here to play with me?"

I'm looking through the mail, not paying too much attention to Sam, when I spot a bill I wasn't anticipating.

"Mommy!"

"What, Sam?"

"Can I go outside and play?"

"Sure. Just stay in our yard, okay?"

"I will," he says as he runs out the door.

Opening the envelope, I unfold the bill for the self-storage unit I'd completely forgotten we have. The rental fee has been paid through the next month, but it's due soon if I want to keep it longer. I hardly remember what's in it, so I have no idea if it's worth the money. But, looking around our sparsely furnished trailer, I think there's a good chance we could empty it and bring all our things here. The only trouble is I don't have the key.

I walk outside, letting the screen door slam behind me.

Edward, who has been sitting at the small table scrolling on his phone, looks up. "Hey."

"Hey. Um, you said you went through Masen's room at the clubhouse, right?"

"I got through most of it yesterday. Why?" He tucks his phone in his pocket.

"I just got a bill for the storage place we've been renting, and I think I need to go down and see what's in there. See if any of it is worth bringing home. I could probably sell the rest."

"Seems like a good idea," he says nodding.

"Trouble is I don't have a key. Masen had it, and I'm guessing he kept it at the clubhouse. It wasn't in his personal effects the coroner's office gave me."

"I haven't run across it yet, but I'll let you know if I find it."

"Thanks." I look next door, watching Sam play with Bree Tanner's son, Matt, and visions of a stressful summer, possibly being put on lockdown, flash through my mind. "Let Angela know I'll be calling her to make arrangements."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." I turn to meet his questioning eyes. "If what you say is true, there's a chance we've got some pretty shitty days ahead of us, and I can't in good conscience keep him here for that. He needs some good memories, and if I keep him here, I'm worried I'll only add to the bad ones."

He nods. "Okay. I'll call her later."

I nod and turn to go back inside but look back. "You know, you _are_ allowed inside."

He smiles his half smile. "You mean I don't have to go down to the Chevron station to piss?"

I smile in return. "No, you idiot. Come on."

He follows me inside, and his close proximity as we step through the door pushes me to walk a little faster.

"You want something to drink?"

"Sure."

"Sorry, but my choices are kind of limited," I say as I reach for a glass in the cabinet, turning to fill it with ice and water. "I guess you don't want some of Sammy's Kool-Aid. I'm sure showing up at church with a blue upper lip would get you more than a few funny looks." I walk back into the living room, handing him the glass.

"Nah, water is fine." As he sips, he pulls at his collar. "Kinda warm in here, isn't it?"

"I've been keeping the thermostat a little higher to save some money."

"Is Rose not paying you enough?"

"She is, but it's still only part time. I'm actually making more per hour there than I was at Dollar General. But it's only my income now. I have to make every penny stretch."

"Did you ever get that insurance shit figured out?"

I smile, remembering my friend's willingness to help me out. "Rose added me to the studio's plan. It's not cheap, but it's better than the COBRA coverage."

"Can I do anything to help?"

I take a deep breath and blow it out, knowing what I'm about to ask him is going to be a difficult sell. "Actually, I'm hoping you can. I need to sell the Panhead. Even though it's not completely restored, I know it's worth something."

His nod is slow. "It is."

"And I know Mase wanted to pass it down to Sam one day, but we can't eat it, Edward. It's not going to keep a roof over my head. And right now, it's just hiding under a tarp in my carport. I have neither the knowledge nor the desire to finish it, and I'd rather just sell it. I'm hoping you can help me find a buyer."

"Consider it done."

"Just let me know if you need pictures or anything for a listing or whatever. I don't even know where to start with—"

"No, I mean consider it sold, Bella. I'll buy it. And I'll pay you what it's worth."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he says, meeting my eyes. "You're sure you want to sell it, though? I mean, I can always come by here and work on it. Might take me a while, but you could keep it for Sam."

I shake my head. "Like I said, we can't eat it. And really, Mase and I fought over that damn bike for years. It's best to just let it go."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay then. I'll have a trailer here and the cash to you by tomorrow."

"Thanks."

He nods once, and it's settled. I turn to walk back into the kitchen, intending to start dinner, but apparently, he isn't quite done.

"I've always wanted to get my hands on that bike. It seemed like it landed in Masen's lap. I told him more than once he was a lucky bastard." His voice lowers. "I'm not sure he ever really appreciated what he had."

My steps falter. His tone, his words make me wonder for a moment if he's still talking about the bike. I ignore the voice screaming in my head and hurry into the kitchen. My hands tremble as I reach for a pot to boil some water. But as I turn to put the full pot on the stove, the atmosphere in the room changes. I feel him before I hear him, as he walks slowly toward me.

My heart starts racing, and I'm suddenly uncomfortable.

"Bella?" His voice is deep and entirely too close. "Since Sam is going with Angela and Ben, I'm thinking it might be safer for you to stay with me while he's gone. At least until this shit with Volturi is settled."

I turn to face him, my brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"I just think it might be safer for you to stay at my place. I've got a security system and no one outside of family and the club knows where I live. You'd be safe. And I'd feel better knowing you were under my roof."

"You want _me_ to stay with _you_?"

"That's what I said."

I turn back to my task. "You know," I say, my voice quavering, "since Sam is going to be gone and I've already promised to carry a gun, I think I'll be fine without a babysitter."

"What?"

"Yeah, I mean, if he's not here, I can sleep with it by the bed. I should be fine." I turn to meet his now steely gaze and smile even though my heart feels like it's pounding in my throat. "I'll be fine here without you guys. It'll free you up for more important things. And besides, I think some distance might be good for us right now."

"What the fuck are you talking about, Bella? First of all, there isn't much that's more important than your safety. And five minutes ago, you were inviting me inside. Now you're saying _distance_ would be good? Fuck that! If anything, there should be less distance between us until this shit with Volturi is settled, not more."

I turn to the cabinet, muttering as I pull down another saucepan. "Giving me distance didn't seem to bother you ten years ago."

When I'm wrenched around, I drop the pan I'm holding.

"What was that?" he demands, his gaze searing into me.

"Nothing," I say as I try and pull away. "Let go of me!"

"Repeat what you just said."

I look up into his laser-sharp green eyes and narrow my own, raising my chin in defiance. "I said giving me distance didn't seem to bother you ten years ago."

His jaw clenches, and I know this look. He's doing everything he can not to blow up at me. "Ten years ago was another lifetime, Bella," he growls. "We're not stupid kids anymore. I promised to keep you safe, and that's what I'm going to do. And the best way I can do that is to keep you at my place until this all blows over."

"Don't I get a say? Don't I get to decide how to keep myself safe? I'm a grown woman for Christ's sake."

"No, you don't get a say this time. I'm not leaving you here unprotected."

I push against his chest and he lets me go. I take a step back. "You lost the right to make decisions for me a long time ago."

His hand goes to his hair, his go-to reflex when he's stressed. "I'm not trying to make decisions for you. I'm only trying to keep you safe. Why can't you understand that?"

"Oh, I understand it, Edward. You seem to think it's your job to insert yourself into my life. You've been putting your nose into my business since Masen died. First you blow up when I go to work for Rose. Then you somehow talk me into sending my son away for God only knows how long, and now you're asking me to leave my home so you can feel better about protecting me." Ten years of pent up anger and resentment surges to a boiling point. "I'm not the naive, gullible little girl I was ten years ago ... the one I was before you tossed me aside and forgot about me."

"I never forgot about you."

"Oh, really? So, what? Was I supposed to just sit by and wait until you remembered all the promises you made me? You moved out of your parents' house a month after we broke up. A month! You moved into Jasper's and didn't look back. It's like you wanted me to forget you ever existed. Forget that _we_ ever had anything worth saving."

"You _know_ I didn't feel that way, but I had no choice, Bella! Your father threatened to fucking _arrest_ me! Do you know how that felt? I was just a kid in love with my girlfriend, living my life, and he threatens to take away my freedom? I was a fucking teenager scared out of his goddamn mind. What was I supposed to do? I needed to get as far away from you as I could."

"You were supposed to wait for me!" I scream, angry tears filling my eyes.

His eyes narrow and his jaw clenches. "Like you waited for me?"

"That's not fair, Edward. You left me thinking you were going to wait for me. That we'd be together. And I _would_ have waited. But four months later—four _fucking_ months—I found out from someone at _school_ that you got Angela pregnant. You told me you'd wait for me. You promised we'd be together once I turned eighteen, but you left and fucked the first willing girl you could find."

"I didn't ... It wasn't like that."

"No? Then how was it? How did we go from making promises to each other to me finding out you'd knocked up Angela?"

"Because when I had time to think, I realized I didn't want this life for you!" he yells. "You were meant for bigger things than I could give you. You needed to get out of this town and do something with your life. I didn't want to hold you back from what you were supposed to be. And I sure as hell didn't think it was fair to saddle you with a kid at that age. Hell, _I_ wasn't ready to be a parent."

"So, you slept with Angela to push me away? To remind me I wasn't worth waiting for?"

"It wasn't like that."

"It wasn't? Because that's how it felt. You weren't there to hear it, Edward. Every day as I walked the halls of the school, everywhere I went I heard about you and her. How little Angela Weber landed herself one of the Outcasts. Everybody in that goddamn school knew you'd broken up with me and jumped right into bed with her. And the whispers when everybody found out she was pregnant. Do you have any idea how much that hurt me?"

"I never wanted to hurt you." Unshed tears shine in his eyes.

I shake my head, smiling ruefully as the tears roll down my cheeks. "It didn't matter anyway, did it? I got sucked right back in and fell in love with your brother. In the end, all the things you wanted for me didn't matter. But the funny thing is, you never stopped to think about what _I_ wanted."

His voice is gravelly. "And what did you want?"

"You," I whisper.

He reaches me in one long stride. His lips claim mine as his arms surround me, and I'm left stunned, immobile. His mouth covers mine and his tongue glides against my own. Physically, I can't think of one single reason to push him away. It feels right. _He_ feels right. But my mind is screaming at me that this is wrong. It takes a moment, but when it all registers, I push against him, my hands fisting the fabric of his shirt as I do.

For a moment, he presses his lips harder against mine, his eyes squeezed tightly closed, but he finally pulls his lips away, gently pressing them to my forehead. "I never stopped loving you, Bella," he whispers against my skin. "I've spent the last ten years without you and spent almost all of them watching my brother try to make you happy." He looks down into my eyes. "I'm sorry I pushed you away back then. I made a lot of mistakes, listened to the wrong people, and I can only hope someday you can forgive me."

Without another word, he turns and walks out the door.

* * *

**A/N: How are we feeling? Are we cheering? Are we cautiously optimistic? Or are we waiting for the other shoe to drop? Next chapter is EPOV, so we'll get to see how he's feeling about that kiss. ;) **

**I'll be posting chapter 1 of Shift this Friday, May 1, so be sure to look for it. I haven't decided a posting schedule for it yet, but I'm thinking it will be more than once a week. I was hoping to have some new chapters to add to it when it posted, but I'm not quite there yet. But the first six chapters will post whether or not the others are written. **

**Just a quick comment on guest reviews. I love each and every review, even the critical ones. As long as they're not hurtful or meant to wish me or my family harm, it's totally cool to share with me what you're really thinking. There's no reason to log out to review. It makes it easier to answer questions and concerns when I know who you are. ;) **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics, even if it's just to talk about your day or share a meme or joke. Anything to make each other smile. I also share teasers and chapter pics in my group every week. And you can follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

**Songs **

**Goner, Twenty One Pilots  
****Up In the Air, Thirty Seconds to Mars  
****I Will Not Bow, Breaking Benjamin  
****Are We All We Are, P!nk**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1!**

* * *

**Edward**

The screen door of the trailer snaps shut, and I make a beeline toward my bike.

"Uncle Edward! Where you goin'?" Sammy shouts as he chases after me.

"I need to get back to the shop, bud." I pull my brain bucket from the handlebars and slip it onto my head, throwing my leg over the seat of my bike. "Why don't you go on inside? Your mom was getting dinner started."

"Will you be back later?" His eyes, so much like his mother's, are so sad, it almost weakens my resolve to get the fuck out of here.

"Maybe tomorrow, okay?"

"'Kay." He runs back toward the house but slows to holler over his shoulder. "Love you, Uncle E!"

"Love you too, Sam," I say to myself once he disappears inside.

I start my bike and pull out onto the street, only making it to second gear before I reach Hawk waiting in the shade at the end of the block.

"Everything okay?" he asks as I roll up beside him.

"I'm gonna head over to the clubhouse. I'll send someone in my place as soon as I can."

"You didn't answer me, brother. Is everything okay?"

I give him a smart-assed grin. "Everything is peachy."

Before he can harass me about my shitty attitude, I take off, merging onto the main road to head into town. My head is a clouded, jumbled mess, and I wouldn't be able to explain how I'm feeling if I had to. I'm disappointed, hurt, angry with myself for opening my goddamn mouth … confused as all fuck. How we went from talking about that goddamn Panhead to me pressing Bella against her kitchen counter, kissing the hell out of her, I have no idea.

Everything about that woman mixes up my head. I've had no choice but to see her as my brother's wife for the last seven years, keeping a respectable distance. So, for all of the old feelings to bubble to the surface—and have no one standing in my way of acting on them—is a mind fuck of epic proportions.

To say I'm conflicted is almost laughable. One one hand, I have no right to even think about her that way. She was my brother's wife. The mother of my nephew. But on the other hand, Masen is gone. And if I'm recalling everyone's sins, he had no problem swooping in on Bella after I let her go. It took me years to get over that shit.

If I'm honest with myself, I'm not sure I ever really did.

For that brief moment when she kissed me back, it was … everything. Even when she pushed me away, she still held on. I have to believe she's feeling at least some of what I am.

The lot is hopping when I pull in, even though it's the end of the workday. I cut my engine and unclasp the strap of my helmet. "What's going on?" I ask Trigger as he walks past me toward the clubhouse.

"Your mom found out it's Rooster's birthday. Guess she thought it would be a tragedy to let it go uncelebrated."

"Of course, she did," I mumble as I stand and swing my leg over the seat.

Trigger grins. "I'll never turn down a reason to party."

"Shit."

"What?"

"I need to send someone over to Bella's to take my shift. No one's going to want to leave if there's a party going on."

He shrugs. "Probably not. I mean, you can send a prospect over. They can't exactly say no, but you might have trouble finding a patched member to take your place."

I look in the direction of the clubhouse, and several of the guys are already crowded around the grill, beers in hand. "I'll ask around. I'd rather send a member."

"Let me know if you can't get anyone to volunteer. I'll go if I have to. I mean, it's for Bella and Sammy. But I'd rather stick around." His face breaks out into a wide smile. "There are a few new mice scurrying around in there already," he says with a wink.

"You have fun with that."

He laughs and heads off in the direction of the clubhouse. I stay where I am, doing my best to get my head straight before I walk in there. In the past, I wouldn't hesitate to relax and enjoy myself with a girl or two. That's been my life for the last ten years; no pressure, no commitment. I've been free to enjoy myself with no one to answer to.

And even if my head is all fucked up with thoughts of Bella, I still have no one to answer to.

Realizing I've stalled long enough, I push off my bike and walk toward the crowd gathered outside.

"Hey, my man!" Jazz, whose lazy smile and drawn out speech tell me he's already a few drinks in, puts his hand out. I take it, and he pulls me in for a hug.

"How's it goin?" I slap his back as I pull away. "I didn't know we were having a party tonight."

Standing next to Jazz, Mac shrugs his shoulders. "Esme got a bug up her ass. Wouldn't let Rooster say no." His grin is wide. "We all know how persuasive she can be."

The corner of my mouth lifts. "That she can be."

A few more members roll up, no doubt here for the food and festivities. Relaxed greetings are given, and more beers are cracked open. When I excuse myself and step inside, I'm met with the usual party atmosphere. Drinks are flowing, the pool table is surrounded, and music and smoke fill the air. And Trigger is right, there are a few new pretty faces.

"Edward!" Mom's enthusiastic greeting has me just a little on edge. "I was hoping you'd get back in time."

"What brought all this on?" I ask, pointing toward the kitchen where the counters are covered with trays of food. "I'm sure Pop told you what's going on with the Kingsmen," I say quietly. "Maybe now isn't the best time for a party."

She waves me off. "Rooster is a nomad. He doesn't have a family to do this kind of thing for him. And besides, you all need a chance to blow off some steam. What better way to do that than to throw a party?" She turns to me and puts her hands on my arms, her face serious all of a sudden. "If things are going to be as bad as your father says, days like this will be few and far between. I want you to relax. Maybe meet some of the new girls. I'm not getting any younger and a few more grandkids wouldn't be a bad thing," she says with a grin and a raised brow.

"I'm not going to find the mother of your next grandchild hanging out in the clubhouse, Mom."

"Then where are you going to find her? Honestly, you spend all your free time here or at home in front of your damn TV, Edward. You're like an old 're never going to meet a decent woman that way."

It's my turn to raise a brow. "And you think one of these girls would be a decent woman?"

She purses her lips. "Well, you're never going to know unless you go and meet them. Now, go," she says, giving me a shove. "Introduce yourself. _Mingle_."

Kissing her cheek, I reach past her to grab a handful of potato chips from the bowl on the counter. I shove them in my mouth and smile, ducking out of her reach when she tries to swat me. I laugh as I walk toward the sofas, grabbing a bottle of water as I pass the open cooler.

"E!" Buzz shouts as I settle into the empty spot beside him.

"How's it goin', Prospect?"

"It's goin' good, man. Did you see the new girls?" He lowers his voice. "I heard they work with Mac's old lady."

"Is that right?" I turn to look over my shoulder, spotting my mother chatting up one of the ladies in question and wondering if she has any idea she's trying to set up her son with a porn star.

"Yep, and they were quite … enthusiastic when they got here a couple hours ago."

"I'll have to take your word for it." I'm more interested in finding someone to take my spot over at Bella's than finding someone to occupy my time tonight. I scan the room, looking for anyone who isn't drinking or being entertained by a mouse, but I come up empty. "Have you seen Carl?"

"He's in the chapel with a couple of the guys," Buzz says, thumbing over his shoulder.

"Thanks." I get to my feet and weave my way through the crowd toward the chapel, cracking open the door.

"Come on in, son."

I slip inside and close the door behind me. "What's up?" I ask, looking between Pop, Tank, and Boomer seated around the table.

"Boom got a call earlier," Tanks says. "Looks like Caius is sniffing around about Aro."

"Let him sniff," I say, stepping closer to the table. "He won't find anything. There's nothing left of the guy. I watched his ass burn up."

"He's harassing the guys at the strip club. He wants to see the security tapes," Boomer says.

I step forward and grip the top of a chair, my jaw tensing. "You took care of all that, didn't you? Tell me you took care of it, Boom."

"I did, E. But if he doesn't find anything, he's going to know someone cut the feed. He's going to figure it out eventually."

I look at Pop. He's seated at the head of the table, his hand absentmindedly rubbing at his chin.

"Pop?"

He looks up at me before looking at Tank and Boomer. "We probably don't have much time. Even without a body, he'll only ignore his VP being a no show for so long. Any day now he's going to figure out we had something to do with his disappearance."

"We can't let our guard down," Tank says. "Once he figures out Aro isn't just on a bender in Mexico, he's going to come for us. All of us."

"Which means we need to be ready to strike first," I say, looking up at all of them. "What's the plan?"

"I'm bringing Maggie here," Boomer says. "She's due in two months, and I can't risk her safety. I'm pretty sure Tracker is bringing Vick, too."

"Most of the guys are bringing their old ladies here for a few days," Pop interrupts. "She doesn't know it yet, but I'm sending your mother to Tahoe with your sister for a couple of weeks. Mac said Rose won't leave. And you've already made plans for Seth to get out of town, right?"

"Yeah, Ang and Ben are taking him to Cali. He thinks it's a late birthday present."

"And Bella and Sammy?" Pop asks.

I nod. "She said she'd send Sam with Seth."

"But she won't go?" Boomer asks.

I shake my head. "No. She said she can't afford to take that much time off work."

"Think she'll come here?" Tank asks.

I think about how we left things just an hour ago and my brow furrows. "I seriously doubt that."

"We'll need to figure out how to keep eyes on her while this shit goes down. It's going to be more difficult since we'll need all hands on deck when the time comes. And we'll all need to keep our ears to the ground and our eyes open, because once Caius realizes his brother isn't going to surface, he's going to be out for blood, not just territory. It'll be personal."

I nod. "I'll talk to her again."

"But in the meantime," Pop says, getting to his feet, "we have a party to attend." He walks toward the door and pulls Tank with him, saying something about getting a peek at the new eye candy.

Before Boomer can join them, I grab him by the arm. "Hey."

"What's up?"

"Do you think you can snag a prospect and head over to Bella's? I left Hawk there on his own, and we were out there all afternoon. He's going to need a break."

"Yeah, I can do that. Do I need to stay all night?"

"Is that a problem?"

"No, man. I just want to give Maggie a call."

"I'll send someone to relieve you in the morning once everyone has slept off tonight."

"Sure thing, brother. Whatever you need." He slaps me on the shoulder and walks out into the main room.

Under Mom's watchful eye, I _mingle_. I talk with the guys and meet a couple of the girls. One of them, a blonde named Heidi with tits she's obviously spent good money on, leans in too close, touches me too many times, and it grates on me. I excuse myself to join the guys outside, eating a burger and drinking a couple of beers. But as the evening passes and things start to get rowdy, I find I'm not in much of a partying mood. I try to slip away unnoticed, but I'm caught before I reach my room.

"Hey, handsome." Standing in the shadows of the hallway, Heidi is lying in wait for someone to pounce on. "You looking for some company?" She steps toward me and places her hands on my chest.

"You really shouldn't be back here, sweetheart. The party is out there," I say, tilting my head toward the main room.

Her mouth turns down into a pout. "I was hoping for a private party."

I grasp her wrists and slowly but forcibly remove her hands from my chest. I lean my head down and lower my voice to a growl. "You really shouldn't fucking touch me."

Leaving her gaping, I walk around her and down the hall, unlocking the door to my room. I close the door behind me and turn, thumping the back of my head against the wood a few times. The closed door muffles the sounds floating down the hall, effectively shutting out the noise.

But it does nothing to silence the noise in my head.

It feels wrong to be here, to sit and bullshit with the guys and be pawed at by a woman who would just as soon fuck the first willing member as she would me while Bella sits at home, probably over-analyzing what happened today. By now, she's no doubt convinced herself it was a mistake.

I'll just have to prove to her that it wasn't ... isn't.

I take off my boots and pull my arms from my cut, tossing it on a chair. I fall into my bed and close my eyes, my forearm coming to rest over them. If I'm lucky I can get a few hours of sleep. But every time I start to drift off, thoughts of sad brown eyes fill my head. So, I just lie in my bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how I can convince her to give us a chance to start over.

* * *

"Hey, man." Hawk's voice is raspy as he steps into the kitchen.

"Morning." I take in his appearance—his fucked up hair, the pillow creases on his face, and his red-rimmed eyes. "Party a little too hard last night?" I ask as I bring my mug to my grinning lips.

"Maybe a little," he mumbles as he reaches for a mug of his own. He turns to me, his eyes meeting mine. "You don't look too hot yourself."

With the dark circles under my eyes, there's no hiding that I had a rough night. "Didn't sleep too well."

He turns and leans his ass against the counter. "Wanna talk about it?"

I huff a humorless laugh. "Not really."

"Did something happen between you and Bella yesterday? You looked like you couldn't get out of there fast enough. And she was in top form after you left. She wouldn't stop snapping at Sam, banging shit around inside the house and raising her voice. I asked her what was wrong, and I honestly feared for my fucking safety."

"Sorry you had to deal with that."

He shrugs. "I only asked her once, but I knew not to press her on it. When Kate gets like that, I know to keep my fucking distance."

I smile, thinking about his feisty old lady. "Still, it wasn't fair to you to have to clean up my mess."

"So, what happened?"

I look up and meet his questioning gaze. "I kissed her. We were arguing and it just kind of ... escalated."

He barks out a rough laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"No wonder she was pissy after you left."

"That's not funny, Hawk."

"No, I'm serious. I have zero doubt she's pissed at herself."

"Why would she be pissed at herself? Shouldn't she be pissed at me?"

He shakes his head, smiling. "Nah. I've known Bella for a long time. If she were pissed off with you for kissing her, you wouldn't have left there yesterday without a slap to the face or a knee to the balls." He opens his mouth again and then snaps it closed. The way he's looking at me—like he wants to say something else but is hesitant—makes me bristle.

"What?"

He smiles and runs a hand through his bed head. "Nothing, man."

"Bullshit. Say what you gotta say, Hawk."

He raises a brow and crosses an arm over his chest. "Okay. After all the bullshit, all the drama of the last ten years, you've got another shot. You should take it, E. I know you both loved Masen. Hell, we all loved him, but he's gone, and he isn't coming back. And I think your brother would want you both to be happy. So, don't let a dead man stand in your way ... or Bella's."

"I don't think I'm the one who needs to be convinced of that."

He slaps a hand to my shoulder as he moves to step past me. "She just needs time. You both do."

Knowing it's probably too soon to see Bella, I arrange for Tracker to take a flatbed over to get the Panhead. His eyes nearly pop out of his head when I hand him the thick envelope with the cash in it.

"You sure about this, E? That feels like a lot of fuckin' money for a bike that's not even road worthy."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Mase sunk a lot of money into that thing, and a lot of time. It's worth every cent in that envelope," I say, pointing at the wad in his hand. Years of protection jobs paid in cash have left me with a sizable stash in the safe in my room. "You just make sure that ends up in Bella's hands."

"You got it, man."

* * *

All day I'm distracted—dropping tools, snapping at the guys and customers. Everyone does their best to keep their distance. What's worse is I've managed to hurt myself over and over.

"Damnit!" I hiss, bringing my busted knuckle to my mouth.

"What is with you today?" Mac asks from the next lift over.

"Nothing!" I drop the ratchet to the floor and walk toward the utility sink to wash my hand and see how badly I managed to hurt myself ... again.

"That's the third time today you've tried to take a layer of skin off your hand." He sets down his own tools and walks over to me. "Seriously, bro," he says quietly, "what's wrong? You've been preoccupied all day."

I look up at him as I crouch over the sink. "I said it was nothing."

"Nothing my ass," he mumbles. "Does it have something to do with Bella?"

I turn off the tap and grab a paper towel from the dispenser, turning to face him.

"Hawk told me what happened."

"You two gossiping like old women now?"

"No," he says as he crosses his arms over his chest. "I was worried about you, man. You've been off all day, and I asked him since the two of you were together yesterday."

I scowl in his direction but don't dispute what he's said.

"You wanna tell me about it?"

"Not really."

"Then you better figure it out soon. Otherwise," he says, pointing to my hand, "you're going to do something to mangle your hand, and you won't be able to ride."

"I'll be fine."

He looks at me dubiously but doesn't say any more. I flex my hand to make sure I haven't done more than break the skin, and all seems to be okay. The cable in the lot rings, and I turn to watch Tracker drive the flatbed in, a passenger at his side.

And as he turns the wheel to park, he leans out the window. "Sorry, man," he shouts, making eye contact with me. "She insisted on riding along."

He barely has time to shift into park before the passenger door opens and then slams closed. Tracker's amused grin widens the closer an irate Bella gets to me.

"What the hell is this, Edward Anthony Cullen?"

* * *

**A/N: Ooohh! She middle named him! Lol. Any ideas on what she's unhappy about? Thoughts on what Caius might do next? What the **_**Outcasts**_** might do next? I'd love to hear what you think. **

**On a side note, the majority of guest reviews I get are lovely, and I adore and appreciate them. My note last week was more directed at those who feel like they need to review anonymously if they have criticisms. It's all good. I want to hear it all. Signing in gives me a way to contact you if you want to discuss it. I'm not fabulous with replying to reviews these days, but I do make an effort to answer direct questions and concerns. **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. And you can follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

**Songs:**

**Landmine, Three Days Grace  
****Carousel, Buckcherry  
****Scream It Out, Ellie Goulding  
****Crazy, From Ashes to New  
****Bulletproof, Godsmack  
****Force of Nature, Bea Miller**

****Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1.**

* * *

****I fiddled ... a lot. All mistakes are mine.**

* * *

**Bella**

I slam the passenger door and march around the front of the flatbed.

"What the hell is this, Edward Anthony Cullen?" I yell, waving the fat envelope of cash around in the air. I reach an amused-looking Edward and push against his chest. "I am not a goddamn charity case."

"No, you're not," he says, bracing his feet against the concrete as I push him again.

We're attracting an audience, so I lower my voice. "Then tell me why the hell you gave me almost ten thousand dollars!" I demand through gritted teeth.

"Because when I'm done with that bike, it'll go for at least twice that. Believe me, I'm getting the better end of the deal here."

I stare up at him with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw.

"Honest, Bella. I wouldn't bullshit you. I told you I'd give you what it's worth, and I have."

Angry, frustrated tears well in my eyes. "Are you telling me the truth?" My voice cracks, and I swallow hard, trying to keep it together.

"I am. Hey, what's wrong? You're not really mad at me, are you?"

"That bike was worth that much this whole time?"

Edward's shoulders slump. He reaches to pull me into his arms, but I back away.

"Don't."

"Bella, what—"

"No. Just … don't." I spin on my heel and scan the lot, zeroing in on the babysitter who followed the flatbed here. I march straight toward Hawk, and his eyes widen as I near. "I need you to take me to McCarty's."

He looks in Edward's direction, but I snap my fingers in front of his face.

"Don't look at him for permission. You're supposed to be protecting me, right?"

"Yeah, Bella, but—"

"But nothing. I need a ride to work." I sling the strap of my bag across my chest and throw a leg over the seat. As Hawk starts the bike, I look toward Edward. With his eyes narrowed and his jaw tight, he's clearly not happy with me.

"You ready?" Hawk calls out over the engine.

I wrap my arms around him and nod. "Yeah. Get me to work."

* * *

The weekend comes and goes. Sam helps me decide what he should pack for what could be weeks away from home, and more than once I tear up, thinking of how much I'm going to miss him. But every time I look at his smiling face, I tuck my feelings away. He's going to have far more fun with Seth than he'd have at home, and most importantly, he'll be safe.

My shadows are constant, with only their faces changing a few times a day. But one face has been noticeably absent. I haven't seen Edward since the day I stormed into Cullen and Sons to scream at him. I don't know if I'm thankful he's giving me distance or if I'm angry he's keeping it.

When I pick up Sam on the last day of school, he can't stop talking about everything he's going to do in Cali. He's so excited for tomorrow to come that he takes his bath and goes to bed without a fight. And before the sun rises, he's bouncing beside me on the bed, excited to leave.

"Mommy! It's vacation day! Wake up!"

"I don't wanna," I mumble into my pillow, fighting a smile. "Five more minutes."

"No, Mommy," he says, grabbing my shoulder. "It's time to get up. They're gonna be here soon!"

In a flash, I roll over and grab him. "Gotcha!" I pull him close and nuzzle my nose into the crook of his neck as I tickle him. His squeals only get louder.

"Stop, Mommy! Stop!" he screams as he giggles.

"No. You're mine, Sammy. I think I'll keep you here."

We both calm down and his head rests beside mine on my pillow. "But I wanna go with Seth, Mommy."

"I know you do, baby. So, we better get up and get you ready." I grab my phone from the nightstand to check the time. "And we better hurry. They'll be here in an hour."

* * *

"Mommy, did you pack my swim stuff?" Sam's voice floats down the hallway.

"Yeah, baby. I packed all of it. Your goggles too."

"Yes!" he hisses, making me smile.

"Are you done getting your extras? Seth and his mom should be here soon." I tuck the extra inhaler and box of albuterol vials in the backpack carrying his nebulizer … just in case.

"Just a minute!" he yells.

A few moments later, he comes fumbling down the hallway, dragging his overfilled duffel behind him.

"Do you think you have everything?"

"Uh huh," he says with a nod.

"Then come here." I open my arms, and he drops everything where he stands and runs to me. I pick him up and hold him close, breathing him in. "I'm gonna miss you, kiddo."

"Me too, Mommy. I wish you could come with us."

"I wish I could, too." I pull back and look into his eyes. "Maybe you and I can go on a trip somewhere soon. Just the two of us. Would you like that?"

His grin lights his entire face as he nods. "Yeah."

The slam of a car door sounds just a moment before an enthusiastic knock on our door.

"I bet that's Seth."

Sammy wiggles out of my arms and runs toward the door, letting his cousin inside. Angela stands behind him. "Morning, Bella."

"Hey, Ang."

She looks down at Sam as he bounces in place. "You ready to go?"

"Uh huh. I got all my stuff packed," he says, tugging at the duffel.

"Then let's get you loaded up."

Ben is already moving Sam's booster seat to their car when we walk outside. "Hey, Bella," he says, climbing out of the backseat.

"Hey." I look at both him and his wife. "I really appreciate you taking Sam with you. He's so excited to be going." I swallow past the lump forming in my throat. "Can you make sure he calls me every few days?"

"Oh, Bella," Angela says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "Absolutely. We'll make sure he calls every night if that's what you need. I wish you were going with us."

"Me too."

"Are you sure you're going to be okay here by yourself?" she whispers. "Edward said things could get a little dicey the next few weeks."

"I'll be okay." I motion toward the pair of club members lingering in the shade at the end of the block and try to smile. "I've got my very own protection detail."

"I just worry about you."

"I'll be fine."

Angela releases me and I take a step back, handing her the backpack containing Sam's machine. I reach into my pocket for a folded stack of bills and hold it out to her. "This should cover his admission and food and—"

She takes the backpack but gently pushes away my other hand. "It's covered, Bella."

"But—"

"It's covered, okay? Don't worry about it. We got a good deal on a package, so it was next to nothing to add Sam to it."

I grip the money in my hand, resisting the urge to insist she take it. "You're sure?" I ask warily.

"I'm sure. Really."

"Okay." I nod, quietly slipping the cash into my back pocket. "Thank you," I say softly.

"You're welcome." Her smile is wide and genuine.

"Drive safe, and let me know when you get where you're going for the day, okay?"

"We will. Our first stop is San Diego. So, if you change your mind, we're only going to be about a six-hour drive away. You're welcome to join us at any time."

"Thanks, Angela."

The sound of an approaching motorcycle gets our attention, and we all watch as the bike rolls to a stop in front of my house.

"Dad!" Seth squeals as he takes off in a sprint toward Edward.

He barely has his helmet off before Seth tackle hugs him. "Hey, bud."

"What are you doing here?" Seth asks, looking up at his father.

"I had to come say goodbye, didn't I?"

Seth squeezes him tighter, and as I watch Sam look on with a fading smile, my heart breaks for him. It hurts to know he won't have moments like this in his future with his own father.

Edward gets off his bike and strides toward us, Seth held tightly to his side. "Sorry I'm late."

"It's fine," Angela says. "We haven't been here long. But we're all loaded up and really need to get on the road."

"Yeah, okay." Edward looks down at Seth and smiles. "You be good for your mom. And maybe pick up the phone and call your old man a few times."

Seth grins as Edward ruffles his hair. "I will. Promise."

Sammy tugs on my shirt, and I look down at his smiling face. "I'll call you, too, Mommy."

"You better." I reach for him, and he comes willingly into my arms. I squeeze him tight, and he gives it right back. "I'm going to miss you so much."

"I'm gonna miss you, too." He tolerates my attention for a few more seconds before wiggling out of my arms. He surprises me when he walks toward his uncle with open arms. "I'm gonna miss you, too, Uncle E."

Edward picks him up and hugs him. "You'll be having so much fun, you won't have time to miss me."

Sam slides down Edward's front, and when his feet hit the pavement, he bolts toward the backseat. "Time to go," he shouts as he climbs into his booster.

With misty eyes, I wave them off as they drive away. "Be safe," I whisper.

"You gonna be okay?" Edward asks, breaking the silence.

"I'll be fine." I wipe at my cheeks and turn to walk inside. I reach for the door handle, but before I can pull it open, Edward clears his throat.

"Can we talk?"

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever it is he wants to say, but I don't turn around. "About what? I have to get to work."

"I think we should talk about what happened last week."

"I really can't do this today, Edward. I think we should leave well enough alone for now."

"I really think it's best if we—"

I spin on my heel and meet his eyes. "And I really don't give a flying fuck _what_ you think. I am so _goddamn_ tired of people making decisions for me and decisions that affect _my_ life." I take a measured step toward him, my eyes narrowed and my hands clenched at my sides. "Masen decided to fuck around on me. _That_ affected my life in more ways than you could even comprehend. _He_ decided to hide the fact that we had anything of any value that could have bettered our lives … our son's life. _He_ chose to keep that from me. _You_ knew all this time how much that bike was worth and didn't bother to tell me. You chose to keep that from me, too. So, don't come to me and tell me what you think is best for me, Edward. You can get right back on your goddamn bike and go back to wherever the fuck it is you've been hiding from me all week. Because right now, I don't think talking to me is a good idea."

He opens his mouth to speak, but I walk inside and slam the door behind me. With a pounding heart and a heaving chest, I just stand there. Several moments pass before I hear his bike start and several more before I hear it pull away. I'm both hurt and relieved that he didn't stick around and insist that we talk.

* * *

I'm in a foul mood, and everyone keeps their distance at the studio. When one of the actors makes the mistake of cornering me in the hallway to ask me out, I threaten to cut off his dick. That's the final straw for Rose. She drags me into her office and tells me to spill. Sitting at her rarely-used desk, she listens while I pace.

"I mean, can you believe that?" I throw my arms up in the air, more exasperated with the men in my life than when I first walked into the studio. "They all think they can make decisions for me! First, it was Masen. He thought it was better to hold on to a bike that could have meant us getting our own place _years _ago, or at the very least we wouldn't have had to scrimp and save every month to pay the bills. And Edward! He thought he had some kind of say over me working here. And then he goes and pays me almost ten thousand dollars, Rose. Ten fucking thousand!" I lower my voice. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

I finally turn to look at her, and her amused expression only makes me more irritated.

"You could be grateful."

"Grateful? How do I know he isn't doing it out of some twisted sense of duty or whatever?"

"Have you ever known Edward to lie to you?"

I plop my ass into a chair and cross my arms. "Only once."

"And when was that?"

"When we broke up."

"So, one lie in ten years." She raises a brow. "What did he lie about?"

I tilt my head back and groan. "Oh, come on, Rose." I meet her eyes. "You know the story. I'm sure you've heard all the gory details over the years."

"I want to hear them from you."

I huff a breath, not happy about rehashing this. "When we broke up, he promised he'd wait for me. Then _he_ made the arbitrary decision that I was better off without him. Seth was on his way at that point, and Edward told me he didn't want me to be saddled with a kid at that age, especially one that wasn't mine. He wanted me to get away from this town and the life I'd have here if I stayed. But instead of _talking_ to me, _asking_ me what I wanted, he made the decision for both of us."

"And you're still upset with him?"

I look down at my feet. "We actually fought about it last week."

"What prompted that?" she asks, leaning forward in her chair.

"He asked me to stay with him while all this shit with the Kingsmen is settled, and I told him no. It just kind of snowballed from there, and we both brought up shit from ten years ago. We both started yelling, and then—" I stop, unsure if I should tell her how our argument ended.

"And then what?"

I shake my head. "Nothing."

She crosses her arms and leans back in her chair. "I call bullshit. But I won't push you to tell me. I will say this, though. You two need to talk. And I mean talk, not argue. You don't need to tell me there's more going on here than being angry over money, or even what Masen did by not selling that bike years ago. The history you share with Edward—and I'm not just talking about the history you shared ten years ago, either—is a huge part of your life. _He_ is part of your life, right now, whether you like it or not. So, you need to figure out if he's going to be part of your future."

With my arms still crossed, I sit silently, unwilling to reply.

She stands and walks over, patting my shoulder. "And in the meantime, can you try to play nice with everyone and not threaten to cut off my actors' cocks?"

* * *

Edward and I spend the rest of the week avoiding each other. He still hasn't come back to take a shift as my shadow, at least not during the day. He could very well be out there while I'm sleeping, and I would never know it. The thought pisses me off.

I go to work, I come home; lather, rinse, repeat. The only silver lining to the time I'm spending away from Sammy is Rose has agreed to give me full-time hours until he comes home. But the extra work she's given me also means coming home later.

The sun has already set when I leave work on Friday. I'm exhausted and ready for a long soak in the tub, a momentary escape from my harsh reality. The offset headlights in my rearview remind me I still have babysitters following me around.

Since Edward has continued to hide from me since I blew up at him, I haven't heard any new details about the threat from the Kingsmen. But if I still have shadows following me around, Caius Volturi and his club must still be a threat.

I pull into the carport and cut the engine, happy to be home. I gather my bag and water bottle and get out of the car, waving in the direction of Buzz and Trigger.

"Have a good night, guys," I say over my shoulder, reaching into my bag for my house key. "Try to stay out of trouble."

I slide the key in the lock and open the door. The sight I'm greeted with confuses me for a moment. My darkened house is absolutely destroyed. Cushions are tossed. Cabinets and drawers are open and overturned. Our things are everywhere. I'm so focused on the mess that I don't notice the man standing in the corner behind me until he grabs me and places a hand over my mouth.

"Don't scream. Just tell me where it is."

My heart thunders in my chest and I frantically shake my head, mumbling against his palm.

"Your husband took something that didn't belong to him, and Caius wants it back." His warm, putrid breath wafts across my skin, and my stomach turns.

Again, I shake my head, all while desperately searching the inner pocket of my bag for my Beretta. I find it and wrap my hand around the grip, praying I get the chance to get a good shot.

"Tell me where it is," he growls. The man blessedly uncovers my mouth but holds a hand loosely around my throat.

"I don't know what you're talking about." My breaths come in heavy pants, and my mouth dries up.

He grasps my neck and shakes me. "It has to be here!"

I'm still shaking my head, my insides roiling. I swallow the bile trying to creep its way up my throat. "He wouldn't hide anything here. We have a son. He wouldn't have—"

"Where is it?" he shouts, pulling his hand from my neck and giving me a shove.

I fall to my knees, and before I can stand, I hear the unmistakable click of the hammer of a gun.

"Maybe this will refresh your memory, bitch. Now tell me where he hid the H!"

I close my eyes and swallow, breathing as evenly as I can. "I told you," I say, my voice trembling right along with the rest of me, "I don't know. If it was drugs, Masen wouldn't have brought it here for our son to find." I turn around slowly and look up at him. With my hand still hidden inside my bag, I wrap it around the grip of my M950, pulling slowly back on the hammer and disengaging the safety.

The neighbor's porch light shines through the kitchen window, and as the man takes a step toward me, there's just enough light to cast shadows on his face. His skin glistens with a sheen of sweat as he looms over me. "If you can't tell me, then maybe we'll sell you off to the highest bidder to cover the cost. How do you like the sound of that?"

A noise outside distracts him, and he turns his head for the briefest of moments.

Without giving it a second thought, I pull my gun from my bag and raise it, aiming it squarely at his chest and pulling the trigger. The pop of the first round is loud in the small space, but it doesn't stop me from emptying the magazine as he falls to the floor. Nine rounds fill his chest, and blood seeps out of him and onto the carpet.

I'm shaking so hard I can't maintain my grip and the gun slips from my hand, tumbling to the floor beside me.

The front door swings open, and I look up to find Trigger staring at me wide-eyed. "Holy shit, Bella! Are you okay?" He steps over the Kingsman's body and rushes to my side.

I'm unable to speak; my tongue is heavy and my stomach clenches and vibrates. I scramble backward, instinctually putting as much distance as I can between myself and the man on the floor, until my back hits the wall.

"Can you talk to me, sweetheart? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

Buzz rushes in behind him, his eyes bouncing between the dead man and me. "Fuck."

"Bella, did he hurt you?" Trigger repeats, smoothing the hair from my face as he checks me over.

I shake my head, still unable to form words. I look over at the dead man lying in my living room and back to Trigger, my eyes wide. My hands fly to his, and I squeeze, silently begging him not to leave me.

"Come on, hon. Let's get you outta here." He helps me to my feet, and on shaky legs, I walk outside. Their murmured voices barely register as I slide into the passenger seat of my Honda. Buzz gets behind the wheel and drives out of my neighborhood. Streetlights illuminate the window as we pass them, but I have no sense of where we're going. Thankfully, Buzz doesn't ask me any questions. I'm sure I wouldn't be able to answer him anyway.

By the time we pull into the lot of the clubhouse, I'm numb. The car door opens, and I'm led inside. It's a Friday night, so patch holders are everywhere. Old ladies and patch whores are everywhere, too, but I couldn't care less. When my eyes land on Edward sitting on a barstool, I want nothing more than for him to hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay.

He catches sight of me, and his brow furrows in confusion. "Bella?" He looks to Buzz at my side. "What is she doing here, Prospect? What the fuck happened?" He hops off the stool and steps toward us.

"There was ..." Buzz clears his throat. "There was someone in the house."

Edward's steps falter, and he looks from me back to Buzz. "Was?" he growls.

"Yeah, she, uh ..."

"Spit it the fuck out."

Buzz's voice lowers to a murmur, barely audible over the music in the background. "Bella shot him."

Edward charges at Buzz. "You stupid fuck!" His fists fly, and no one does anything to stop him. "Why did you let her go inside without checking the goddamn house first, huh?" Hit after hit, Edward takes out his anger on the poor prospect.

But Buzz gives as good as Edward does, and soon they're a tangle of limbs and testosterone as their scuffle turns into a full-fledged fistfight. The other club members egg them on, and I take a step back, needing to distance myself from all of it. My back hits a wall, and I slide down until I'm sitting on the floor. I close my eyes and cover my ears with my hands, tears finally welling behind my closed lids and spilling onto my cheeks.

Warm, large hands reach for me, one arm moving under my knees and the other behind my back, and I'm lifted into the air. The scent of leather and tobacco fills my nose. My eyes fly open, and I'm met with familiar, intense green. Without a word, he carries me down the hallway and into his room, kicking the door closed behind us.

* * *

**A/N: Eep! Any thoughts on what might happen next? Things are heating up, that's for sure. I'd love to hear your thoughts. **

**Shift, the prequel to this story, is posting on Fridays. So, be sure to check my profile for that one if you want to see how these two started out. I'm still deciding how much of Bella and Masen's story I'm going to write, but quite a few of you have said you'd like to read it, so ... we shall see. **

**There are some great contests going on right now. I'm a judge for **_**The Perfect Date Contest**_**, which is accepting entries until 5/23/20, as well as the **_**A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Contest**_**, which is accepting entries now through 6/22. There are Facebook groups for each, so be sure to check them out. TwiFandom News is also hosting a **_**Family Affairs**_** Mafia fic contest. Be sure to check out all of these! And if you write or are even thinking of writing, get to it! **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. And you can follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

**Songs:**

**Hurricane, Thirty Seconds to Mars  
****Two, Sleeping At Last  
****You're Gonna Be OK, Jenn Johnson  
****Black, Keri Kimmel  
****Go to War, Nothing More**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1!**

* * *

****Fiddling was had. All mistakes are mine. **

* * *

**Edward**

Voices echo down the hallway, reminding me Pop is going to want to call for church in the morning, but I pay them no attention. I walk into my room, kicking the door closed and laying Bella carefully on my bed. She curls into a tight ball, and I run a hand over her head, smoothing her hair from her face and praying she'll talk to me.

As I crouch beside the bed, her clouded eyes meet mine, and what I see in them—pain and fear—breaks my heart. "What happened, Bella?"

"I killed someone," she croaks. "Oh, my God. I killed a man ... in my living room." She turns and sits up, breathing rapidly as her entire body starts to shake.

"Hey, it's okay, Bella. He—"

"Okay? Okay? It's anything but okay!" She pushes me away and tumbles out of the bed, clumsily landing on her feet and running toward the bathroom. I follow her and watch as she drops to her knees to throw up into the toilet.

I stand behind her and gather her hair into one hand as I reach for a washcloth with the other, wetting it at the tap. When she's finally done heaving, I nudge her head back to rest against my legs and run the cool cloth over her forehead. "You okay now?"

She nods but remains silent.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Bella."

"I'm a murderer," she whispers. "Charlie is going to come and arrest me, and I'll leave Sammy all alone."

"Hey, stop. None of that is true. You're not going anywhere." I squat beside her and grasp her chin, turning her face toward mine. "He was there to hurt you, and you protected yourself. I'm just pissed at myself for not being there to protect you."

Her eyes are unfocused, distant, as she stares at my chest. "He was just there, hiding in the shadows, waiting for me. He would've killed me, wouldn't he? If I hadn't shot him?"

"Yeah, he probably would have."

She nods but says nothing else.

"Did he say anything? Say why he was there?"

"He said he was looking for something Masen took from Caius." She looks up at me with a furrowed brow. "Heroin, Edward. Masen took heroin from Caius Volturi. Why would he do that? Why would he risk it? Why would he risk me and Sam?" Her voice is small, broken.

"I don't know, baby. He ... he was desperate. I really think he felt like he was out of options."

Her eyes change before me, a spark igniting in her irises. "You knew, didn't you? Before now? You knew about the drugs?"

I exhale a heavy breath through my nose. "Yeah," I say softly, reaching a hand toward hers. "He left me a letter asking me to get rid of it if anything happened to him."

"Is there anything else you haven't told me?"

When I don't immediately answer, she pulls away and scrambles to her feet. "It seems like every time I turn around, I find out someone is keeping secrets from me."

"I didn't want to involve you if I didn't have to." I rise to my feet and follow her through my room.

She wheels around to face me as she reaches the door. "So, you weren't going to tell me?"

I shake my head. "No. I was going to figure out a way to get rid of it. There was no reason to involve you."

Her bloodshot eyes narrow. "You really haven't figured it out yet, have you? You still think it's okay to make decisions that affect me without fucking _asking_ me what I think?" She pushes past me to leave.

Before she can, I grab hold of her arm and tug her back to me. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

She tries to pull away, struggling against my hold. "I'm going home. I have a fucking body to get rid of."

"You're not leaving the clubhouse, Bella. I can't have you unprotected until Caius is—"

"Fuck Caius Volturi," she shouts, pushing against me. "Fuck the Kingsmen, fuck this club!"—her balled fists repeatedly beat against my chest—"Fuck Masen, and fuck you!" Finally, she collapses against me, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Months—_years, _it seems—of pent up emotions pour out of her, sobs wracking her body, and I hold her as she cries. Her fists still pound against my chest, but her hits grow weaker with every strike. When the fight finally leaves her body, she sags in my arms. I slide a hand under her legs and lift her up, carrying her to the bed. She curls against me, and as we lie together in silence, her tears slow and her breaths even out.

The noise beyond my door continues, but no one comes to bother us. I honestly don't give a fuck that there's still a dead body to deal with. Someone else will get rid of it. Right now, Bella is my only concern.

"I'm sorry," she says softly, her voice raspy.

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"I just ..." She pulls away and looks up at me. "I don't know how much more I can handle."

"I know," I say, kissing her forehead. "I'm sorry, Bella. I should have been there tonight. You know if I could, I'd fix it all. I'd do just about anything to make everything better."

"I'm not sure that's possible." Her eyes are full of sadness, and she looks fucking exhausted. "Can you just ... hold me?"

"I'll do whatever you need." I wrap my arms around her impossibly tighter, and she buries her face in my chest.

"Don't let me go," she whispers.

I drift in and out of consciousness, the warm body in my arms making it difficult to stay awake _or_ asleep. The smell of her, her warmth … they're enough to lull me to dreamland, but I fight against it, not wanting to miss a moment of holding her.

I don't know when or _if_ I'll have the chance again.

Hours pass, and at some point in my haze of sleepy wakefulness, my hand sneaked under her shirt, my palm splayed across her bare back. Even though I know I should move it, I don't. Instead, my fingers trace small patterns on her skin, the feel of her flesh on mine enough to bring back a flood of memories. But before I can get totally lost in them, she shifts in my arms, and I still.

"Why?" she whispers, breaking the silence.

"Why what?"

"Why did you kiss me?"

I could make up some bullshit excuse, but I've already told her how I feel. So, I give her the simple truth. "Because I couldn't stop myself."

She pulls away and looks up at me. So much doubt fills her gaze. "I need to know if all of this is because your brother asked you to look out for us, or if—" She stops, pressing her lips together.

"Or if what?"

"Did you really mean what you said that day? Do you still love me?"

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my pounding heart and twisting gut. "I've never stopped loving you, Bella." I search her eyes, and the doubt I find there only deepens. "Yes, Masen asked me to watch out for you and Sammy, but this goes beyond making sure you two are safe." I scoot down until I'm eye-to-eye with her and cup her cheek in my hand. "I've loved you since I was seventeen. Even when we broke up—when I fucked up and let the adults around me dictate my life—you were still the only one who had my heart."

She closes her eyes, and twin tears fall onto her cheeks. "Don't," she whispers. "Please."

"No, I need to say this, and you need to hear it. I spent so long wishing I could get a do over. That things had gone differently. I will _always_ regret hurting you, and I'll never forgive myself for what I put you through."

My eyes burn, and I blink away tears as I think back to the months that followed our split. "But once Seth was born, things changed. I knew I had to let you go ... for good. I had to live with my choices ... even though every time I looked at him those first few months I wished—"

"Edward, stop—"

I nod, knowing it's of no use to go down the path of what if. I swallow hard, licking my lips to fight against the dryness suddenly invading my mouth. "When you moved on, when you and Mase got together, I felt like things were going to be okay—that you'd be loved. No, it wasn't me, but I knew Mase loved you."

"But it wasn't enough," she whispers.

"No, it wasn't. Bella, look at me ... please."

Her eyes open slowly, and some of the doubt is gone, replaced with just the smallest glimmer of guarded hope.

"I never stopped loving you. I _still_ love you. I'm only asking for you to give me the chance to show you."

"I still love you, too," she says softly. "But I can't ... I'm not ..."

"I know, baby." I kiss her forehead, pressing my lips for a moment longer than I should. "I know. But I'm not going anywhere," I murmur against her skin. "I'll be here waiting until you're ready."

We lie like that, wrapped up in each other, as the morning sunlight starts to filter through the blinds, and I know our time together is coming to an end. The pounding on my door moments later confirms it.

Mac's voice booms through the door. "E! Carl is calling for church at ten."

"I'll be there," I shout over my shoulder.

"Duty calls, huh?" Bella asks, her eyes blinking open.

"Unfortunately."

She sighs and disentangles herself from my arms, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and wrapping her arms around herself.

I stand from the bed and walk to my dresser to grab a fresh shirt. The one I'm wearing is covered in fuck knows what from Bella rubbing her face in it most of the night. "Do you want to stay here? In my room, I mean?" I close the drawer and turn to face her. "I meant what I said last night. I really don't want you out there until Caius isn't a threat anymore."

"I know you don't want me to go home, but I really don't want to stick around here. These rooms ... this place ..." She looks around the room and back to me. "There are just too many memories here."

I nod once and step toward her, taking her hands in mine. "Then I'll take you to my place. You'll be safe there, and you can stay until I get back."

"From where, Edward? What's going on?"

I meet her gaze, and I know I can't lie to her. I can't keep anything else from her, but I also can't tell her I'm leaving to help kill a dozen or more men. So, I settle on guarded truths. "We have some business to take care of up north."

"Up _north_? The Kingsmen?" she deduces.

"We're going to put an end to this once and for all."

* * *

"So, you know where pretty much everything is," I say as I lead Bella through the foyer and into the great room. "There's frozen shit in the freezer, but if you want something else, I'd rather you call one of the prospects to bring it to you. I don't even want you calling for a fucking pizza to be delivered, okay?"

She nods as she walks behind me, her hands tucked into her back pockets.

"The guest room hasn't been used in a while, so you might want to air it out, change the sheets or whatever the fuck."

I look back at her, and she's cracking a smile. "Whatever the fuck?"

I grin right back at her. "Yeah. Or ..."

"Or what?"

I tentatively reach for her and pull her closer. Her hands come to rest on my chest as I loosely wrap an arm around her waist. All I want to do is bend down and kiss her, but I resist the urge.

"Or you could sleep in my bed."

Immediately, she tries to pull away. "Edward, I can't—"

But I hold tight. "Stop. What did I say?"

She lowers her gaze to my chest. "I can't—" She takes a deep breath and blows it out.

I tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet my eyes. "What?"

"I don't exactly feel comfortable sleeping where you've ..."

"That's what you're worried about? Bella, no," I say, shaking my head. "Baby, I've never brought anyone back here. I told you no one knows where I live except family and the club, and I meant that shit. You're ... I don't mean this the way it might sound, but you're the only woman I've brought back here."

"You want me to believe that?" She tries to pull away, and this time I let her. "Please don't lie to me."

"I've never lied to you."

She crosses her arms across her chest and leans against the kitchen counter. "You sure you want to go there?"

"I never lied to you. Yes, I broke a promise, but I never lied to you."

"Aren't they the same thing?"

"I broke a promise I made; one I had every intention of keeping. So, call it what you want, but my broken promise cost me _everything_." I step closer and gently uncross her arms, pulling her hands into mine. "It cost me a _life_ with you, Bella_. _I'm not going to risk any shot I might have at a second chance with you by fucking up and lying. I won't hurt you that way again."

Her expression softens, and I can see in her eyes that she wants to trust me. But she's been hurt. And her bruised heart will take longer to trust, to heal from what my brother put her through.

"I promise," I whisper.

"I want to trust you, Edward, but ..."

"I know, baby. It's going to take time to earn it."

She nods and rests her forehead against my chest. I hold her for a long while, just breathing her in. Having her here, in my house, in my arms, is one step closer to having her in my life ... permanently.

"I need to go," I say softly, unwilling to release her.

She nods and squeezes me tighter, seeming just as reluctant to let me go. "Will you try and call me or just let me know you're okay? I know what you're about to do is dangerous, and ..." She pulls back and looks up at me, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. Her voice lowers to a whisper. "I don't think I can handle losing someone else I care about."

"I promise to check in when I can, okay?" My phone chimes with a text, and I know my time is up. I kiss the top of her head once more and release her. "I have to go. You call the clubhouse if you need anything, you got it?"

She nods once, wrapping her arms around her middle. "I will."

"Fuck it. I'll just have one of the guys hang around outside. Keep an eye on you. Then he'll be right there if you need anything." She shakes her head, opening her mouth to protest, I'm sure, but I shut her down. "Don't argue with me. I can't concentrate on what I need to do if I'm worried about you."

"Okay," she finally rasps.

"We should only be gone a few days. But I'll call to let you know if it'll be more than that. Just ... please promise me you'll stay here until I get back."

"I promise, but what about work? I can't afford to take off too much time."

"I'm sure Mac is already telling Rose what she needs to know, so she'll understand if you're out for a few days. Hell, Mac might insist she halt production until all this is over. And if it's the money you're worried about, I'll cover what you miss. Your safety is more important to me than a paycheck, Bella."

"I'm not worried about the money. I mean, I am, but you don't have to do that. With what you gave me for the bike, I'll be fine for a while." She opens her mouth but hesitates.

"What is it?"

"I don't guess I can get someone to bring my car here?"

I raise a brow. "You really asking me that?"

She manages a small grin and shakes her head. "Guess not."

I step toward the door, but I can't bring myself to walk through it. I spin around, and she's _right_ _there_, her arms instantly going around my waist and her face pressed against my chest. I wrap my arms around her and breathe her in one more time before pulling back and tilting her chin up. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

She nods and releases me. "Be safe," she says softly.

"I will. You too, okay?"

Again, she nods, and I walk out the door, heading straight for my bike. I've gotta get my ass to church.

* * *

One by one, we file into the chapel. Trigger walks past me, rubbing his jaw after the pounding I just gave him. I shake out the soreness in my hand as I walk to my seat, and my eyes follow him around the room until he sits.

The fucker is still on my shit list for what happened last night. The only thing saving his ass from being in the hospital is the fact he got rid of the dead body in Bella's house. Agreeing to replace the flooring in her trailer isn't hurting his case, either.

The gavel bangs against the table, bringing the room to order.

Pop looks around the room, meeting the eyes of each member seated at the table. "The jackass in Bella's house last night was a low man, an enforcer sent by Caius Volturi to kill a woman. Does anyone know why in the hell he was there for her? Because it's not making any goddamn sense to me why he would want Bella dead."

I bite at the inside of my cheek, keeping the truth to myself. It won't do any good to spill Masen's secrets to everyone here. It would only tarnish his memory to all of these men, and I can't do that to my brother, even in death.

Mac speaks up. "Could just be intimidation. Something to get us all to react and go after them based on emotion instead of thinking shit through."

Pop nods his head in agreement. "Makes sense. We already know they want us out of the area so they can move in. They want us to fly off the handle, to hit them without thinking all the angles through."

"Then that's what we should do," I say, gaining everyone's attention. I sit forward in my chair, resting my elbows on the table and loosely lacing my fingers together. "We set up some bullshit hit on them. Make them think we're just reacting, striking back without a plan. And in the meantime—"

"In the meantime, we go after their operations in South Tucson," Tank says from his end of the table, and I nod in agreement.

"Exactly."

"That might actually work," Pop says, rubbing his chin. He points across the table at Trigger. "You can take Hawk and follow a few of their guys around, take them out and make sure they know it was us. They'll no doubt send out half their crew, thinking the rest of us are out there."

"Then we hit their warehouse," I interject.

"Then we hit their warehouse," Pop agrees with a nod. "If we take out most of their operation, we'll cripple them, at least for a while. Coming after us and our territory won't be an option."

"And it'll be like cockroaches scurrying when the lights come on," Jazz says with a wide grin. "We can take them out one by one."

"There's something else we need to talk about," Mac says, eyeing Pop. "García is asking about his next shipment."

"Shit," Pop hisses.

"Yeah. With Mase's funeral and everything else, he's been waiting for a shipment for weeks. I'm not sure how much longer we can put him off, or if we even should."

"No," Pop says, "you're right. But we're going to be spread a little thin if he insists on a meeting now. How long can he wait? Another week? Maybe offer him a discount or some shit."

I sit up straight in my chair, a ripple creeping up my spine as I say the words. "Tell him I'll meet with him."

Pop's brows furrow. "Why? We can make a run with Biers once all this shit with Volturi is over."

"No, I'll meet with him. Give him a face-to-face assurance that our relationship is still in good standing."

"You're sure as hell not going alone," Pop says.

"I'll take Jazz with me." I look over at my brother-in-law. "You good with that?"

He nods. "Yeah. I'll be ready to go whenever you are."

I turn to Pop. "Then it's set. We'll meet with him and get shit settled before we head to Tucson."

Pop eyes me speculatively, probably wondering why the hell I'm volunteering to meet with García when we have other, more important irons in the fire. "I'm sure he'll appreciate the in-person reassurance," he finally says, the words slowly rolling off his tongue, almost questioningly.

I nod, looking to Mac. "Set it up. I'll meet him tonight if he can make it."

"You got it, E."

"So, Trigger and Hawk will head out Monday morning, scope out the local Kingsmen hangouts and pick off a couple of their members. The rest of us will wait until tomorrow night to hit the warehouse. We'll go in silent. Boomer can set some fuses for us, and we'll blow the whole thing. Then we wait them out. Shouldn't be too hard. We take out as many as we can and take the legs off their entire operation. They'll have nothing to bring to our town, and not enough men to run it. Time to bring it to a vote?"

With nods all around, the vote goes around the table; every man gives his approval.

"It's unanimous. Looks like it's time for Volturi to hang up his crown." With a single tap of the gavel, the decision is made.

* * *

**A/N: Looks like it's game on for the Outcasts and Kingsmen. Do you agree with Edward's decision to keep the info about the drugs to himself? Do you think this little mission will go off without a hitch? Do you think Bella's ready to put the past behind them? I'd love to hear your thoughts. **

**There are some great contests going on right now. I'm a judge for **_**The Perfect Date Contest. **_**The deadline for accepting entries has been extended until 5/30/20. You can find the contest page here on FFN under the author PerfectDateContest. And I'm also a judge for the **_**A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Contest**_**, which is accepting entries now through 6/22. The contest page here on FFN is under the author APicureIsWorthAThousand Words. There are also Facebook groups for each, so be sure to check them out! And if you write or are even thinking of writing, get to it! **

**Oh! And TFMU Austin has officially been rescheduled for July 16-18, 2021. So, you've now got plenty of time to get your ducks in a row to be there! I have a feeling it's going to be one of the biggest and best yet. ;) Contact Angela Weber Cheney via Facebook or visit the blog, tfmutwificmeetup. Com for more info. **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. And you can follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of lov****e  
****~Sunshine**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

**Songs: **

**This Life, Curtis Stigers & The Forest Rangers  
****Keep The Dogs At Bay, Seether  
****Wherever I May Roam, Metallica  
****My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark, Fall Out Boy  
****Safe To Say I've had Enough, Seether**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1!**

* * *

****Fiddling was had. All mistakes are mine.  
**Translations at the bottom.**

* * *

**Edward**

The storage unit is stacked high and deep. Boxes upon boxes line the walls, all of them marked with their contents or a date. The pile of baby things in the corner is especially daunting. If Bella has to go through all this shit on her own, it could get overwhelming.

The toolbox is a few feet inside, and I have to step over boxes to get to it. Just as Masen said it would be, the gift bag is tucked inside the deepest drawer behind the tools. Peeking inside, my eyes widen. This isn't the cut, ready-to-be-sold dime bags I expected. This is a wrapped brick of black tar. Judging by the size, I'm guessing it's a kilo and is probably worth more than my brother ever imagined. It's easily worth fifty large on the street ... maybe more.

No wonder Caius sent one of his guys to get it back.

Needing to wrap this shit up, I rummage through a box marked _clothes_ until I find something that will work. I spread out the old t-shirt and tuck it around the brick until it's in a tight bundle, then I stuff it in the backpack I brought along. Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I head out, locking up behind me.

I ride over to Jazz's place, and knock as I walk inside, the backpack slung over my shoulder. "Jazz," I shout as I close the front door. "You in here?"

The inside of his house has definitely changed in the years since I lived with him. Gone are the neon bar lights, Harley decor, and Maxim posters of a bachelor pad. It's all been replaced with my sister's decorating style. Art pieces and sculptures cover the walls, and bright colors are everywhere I look.

"Yeah," he calls from the back of the house. "Give me a minute."

I poke my nose in the fridge but decide against trying to eat anything. My stomach is tied in knots just thinking about what may happen tonight.

"What's with the bag?" Jazz asks as he rounds the corner into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge.

"Something to smooth things over with García."

He eyes me warily but doesn't ask any more questions. "You want something to eat before we hit the road?" he asks as he cracks open an energy drink.

"Nah. I just want to go and get this done." I glance at the clock on the wall. "And we should probably get going. Mac set it up for midnight, and I don't want to make García wait. Besides, if we make good time, we might be able to get some sleep before we head out in the morning."

Jazz nods before taking another swig from his can. He sets it on the counter and steps toward the kitchen table, grabbing his cut off the chair. "Then let's do this."

* * *

The meeting place is creepy as fuck at night. The abandoned service station on this particular stretch of desert highway looks almost post-apocalyptical. The blacked-out, busted windows on the building and the out-of-date pumps tell me this place hasn't been in business for years. This place, so far from town and any kind of civilization, makes me uneasy, and I'm jumpy as hell.

"There," Jazz says, pointing off into the distance. The headlights coming our way cut off as they near, leaving only the light of the full moon to shine down on us.

The car stops, and the passenger gets out and opens the rear door. García steps out, straightening his jacket before stepping toward us.

"Cullen," he says, his accent thick and his tone irritated. "I was a bit surprised to get your call. I have been worried our business relationship was ... in jeopardy."

"Not at all." I look beyond him, seeing his driver and two other armed men watching us. I meet García's sharp gaze. "Our relationship with your organization is very important to not only my father but also the club. Unfortunately, we've run into quite a few hurdles in recent weeks."

"Yes, I heard about your brother. Mi más sentido pésame."

My throat tightens at the mention of Masen, but I swallow past it. I need to keep my emotions in check around this man. "Gracias."

García nods, folding his hands behind his back. "What other _hurdles_ have you run into? Is there some reason we might not be able to continue to do business together?"

I look over my shoulder at Jazz and at the men standing guard before turning back to García. I jerk my chin. "May I speak to you away from prying ears?" I ask lowly.

He nods, and we walk away from the other men, toward the road.

"You are familiar with the Kingsmen?" I ask as we walk alongside one another.

"Si, I am."

"They're the ones responsible for my brother's death. They've also threatened to encroach on our territory"—I stop and turn to face him—"which, in turn, would pose a problem for you."

His jaw tightens. "Yes, that would be very bad for business."

I nod. "It would."

"What do you plan to do about it?"

"We're planning to shut down their operations."

He raises a brow in question.

"If I'm not mistaken, that could leave an entire area ripe for the taking."

"That it could."

"If you were to move into the area, we will continue to supply your men, in exchange for your continued cooperation with keeping your traffic far away from our town."

"Of course. It has been beneficial for both of us over the years."

"I also have something for you," I say, pulling the backpack strap off my shoulder. "A show of good faith, you could say."

The men watching from a distance tense, grabbing for the weapons hanging from their shoulders and taking a step toward us.

García raises a hand, calling them off. "Está bien. Quédate donde estás."

Watching the men return to their posts, I pull the bundle out of my bag and hand it over. "The street value of this should cover some of the losses you've had to take waiting on the club to get your next shipment."

He weighs it in his hand, his questioning gaze meeting mine before he unwraps the bundle and tears into the plastic. He takes a sniff. "Si, this should cover some of my losses. I had to take an offer from a local supplier, and his stock was not as ... reliable. It is good to know I can still count on you and your club to hold up your end of our arrangement."

I nod once and stick out my hand. "We will be in touch in a few days. Once we clear the way, be ready to move in on Volturi's territory."

García's grip is firm as he shakes my hand. "I will be looking forward to the call."

* * *

The ride back to the clubhouse is ... tense. Jazz hasn't spoken to me since García and his men left, and knowing my brother-in-law, he's pissed at me for not including him in my talks with our business associate.

Even when we roll into the lot as the sun rises, he says nothing when he gets off his bike and storms inside. I huff a breath and shake it off. Jazz can be as dramatic as my sister sometimes, and that's saying a lot. But he'll get over it ... eventually.

I walk straight through the main room, bypassing a stop in the kitchen, and head for my room. Stepping inside, I close the door behind me and remove my cut, tossing it over a chair. I toe off my boots and grab my phone from my pocket, shooting off a text to the prospect who should be sitting outside my house.

_Quiet night? - E_

Less than a minute passes before I get a reply. _Nothing to report. All is well, E. - P_

I plug in my phone to charge, strip off my shirt and jeans, and fall into my bed, quickly drifting to sleep. All too soon, the call to hit the road comes in the form of someone banging on my door. With a groggy head, I hit the shower, doing my best to wake up after the few hours of sleep I managed to get.

After strapping on my holster and checking my weapons, I pull on my cut and step out into the hallway. When I reach the kitchen, Jazz is standing at the coffee pot, waiting for it to finish brewing. I step around him, grabbing an empty mug. For several moments, we stand in silence, the last gasps and gurgles of the coffee maker the only sounds in the room.

"You ready for today?" I finally ask.

He doesn't acknowledge me, keeping his back to me as he pours himself a cup.

"So, that's how it's gonna be?"

Again, he says nothing, walking out of the room.

"Whatever," I mumble as I pour my own.

There's a box of day-old donuts on the counter, so I snag one, shoving it in my mouth and gulping down my coffee before heading outside. Jazz follows silently behind me. Trigger and Hawk are already gone, but everyone else is loading shit into the van.

"Glad to see you two could join us," Pop says, a smart-ass grin on his face.

"It's not like we weren't out last night conducting _actual_ business," I bite back.

"Everything go okay?" he asks as he pulls on his gloves.

I nod, my eyes following Boomer as he carefully loads his special brand of fireworks into the back of the van. "Everything was fine." I look back to Pop. "He'll be waiting to hear from us. He's interested in moving in once Volturi is out of the area."

"I thought he might." He swings a leg over his bike and reaches for his brain bucket. "Could complicate things for us."

"How?"

"I'm not sure I like the idea of our supplier and our buyer being that close ... geographically."

"But if it means he keeps up his end of the bargain and keeps his shit away from our town—"

"I know. And we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Everyone saddles up—Pop, Mac, Jazz, Boomer, Tracker, Tank, and me—leaving Buzz to drive the van behind us. One by one, we file out of the lot and hit the road. The sun beats down on us, and the afternoon heat ripples the road ahead.

The plan is to ride north, stopping just outside Tucson to wait for the call from Hawk. Then we'll move in, setting the fuses and blowing their operation sky high. The hardest part will be waiting for Volturi and the others to show themselves.

But I'm not leaving Tucson until that fucker is dead.

We take State Route 80 north until we can't, eventually getting on the interstate. But we get off I-10 when we reach the outskirts of South Tucson. Pop leads us down surface streets, snaking our way toward town. It's a hell of a lot farther out of our way, but it means staying off the radar.

We don't want Volturi to know we're here before we have the chance to pay _him_ a visit.

When we reach our temporary destination, we all pull our bikes behind the building, keeping them out of sight from the highway. The roadside motel is small, and the room we rent barely passes for clean, but it's a place for us to wait for news from Hawk and Trigger.

I plop my ass in a chair at the tiny-ass table and send Bella a text to let her know things are going as planned.

_Stopped for a while. Waiting on a call. Let the prospect know if you need anything. - E_

_I'm good. Just worried about you. Be safe. - B_

Jazz continues to ignore me, and it's beginning to piss me off. I even get a questioning glance from Pop, which I respond to with a shrug. There's no need to bring more drama into it. When the clock ticks well past evening, someone orders a few pizzas. When we finish them off, everyone starts to get restless as we wait for the call.

It finally comes a few hours after the sun sets.

"Hawk says they took out two of them outside some titty bar by the airport a few hours ago," Pop says to all of us. "They had a tail for a while, so they're sure Caius knows about it. Should only be a matter of time before they hit the road. If we hit them now, it'll bring them back to their warehouse." His eyes scan the room. "You all ready for this?"

With excited agreements echoing all around the room, we each grab a bulletproof vest out of the large duffel and put it on. Then we pull on our dark hoodies before loading up in the van.

* * *

"You ever gonna tell me what that private pow-wow with García was all about?" Jazz whispers from his seat beside me.

I look over at him, raising a brow. "So, now you're talking to me?"

"Cut the shit. What was all that about last night?"

"I was just smoothing things over with him." I don't look at him. Instead, I focus on checking my guns, making sure they're loaded and ready. My leg bobs in nervous anticipation for what we're about to do.

"But what the fuck was in the bag?" His pointed stare and insistent tone set my teeth on edge.

I turn my head, meeting his stare with my own. "A gift, and that's all you need to fucking know. Drop it," I bite out.

He crosses his arms over his chest and sits back in his seat, his eyes never leaving me. I don't have much time to worry about what Jazz is thinking, because the van rolls to a stop a few hundred feet from the entrance to the nearly-abandoned industrial park.

"Do I need to get us closer, Carl?" the prospect asks from the driver's seat.

"No, this is good. Less chance of being seen. We can stick to the shadows and get in and out."

Quietly and carefully, everyone pours out of the van, Boomer grabbing the bag of essentials for tonight's mission. Careful not to pass under any of the streetlights, we inch our way closer to Volturi's warehouse with light footfalls. A few men are guarding the shipping entrance, but they're preoccupied with something one of them is showing the others on his cell phone.

Pop points to three of us—Mac, Jazz, and me—and passes his thumb across his neck. Understanding what he's asking of us, we all reach for the blades hanging from our belts.

In a coordinated effort, the three of us slink around the corner of the building and come up behind the distracted, useless guards. With a single pass of our blades over their throats, we take care of them silently, giving us a better chance of doing this with no one being the wiser.

Dropping the men to the ground, we step over them and walk right through the open delivery bay door. All of us tread lightly through the space, careful not to make too much noise. We have no way of knowing if there are more club members lurking around.

The warehouse is bigger than I expected. Maybe somewhere in the neighborhood of ten thousand square feet. Shelves covered in what looks like auto parts boxes fill the floor, and crates are stacked up along the walls, just waiting to be filled with garbage and shipped out.

We split off and work our way from the outside in, checking the warehouse aisle by aisle to make sure we're the only ones here. As we get closer to the back of the building, the overwhelming and pungent smell of vinegar hits my nose.

What I see when I round the last corner is what we expected. All the equipment used to cut and process the tar into shit they can actually sell on the street is spread out on the tables.

"Set it up here, Boomer." Pop turns to face our resident explosives expert. "And make sure it's enough to bring down the whole fucking thing."

Boomer grins and pulls the bag from his shoulder, getting to work on setting the explosives. Mac and Tracker help him lay the wires and make sure shit is in the spot that will do maximum damage. The rest of us stand guard so he can do his thing. I'm antsy as fuck as I wait, my whole body vibrating with volatile energy.

This will be the beginning of the end for Caius Volturi and his club, the end of the threat to our club. But more importantly, it'll be the end of the threat against Bella and Sam. When this is done, we'll all be able to move on with our fucking lives.

"All set," Boomer says nearly a half hour later as he packs away his tools. He slings his bag over his shoulder. "I just need to set the timer and we can blow this fucking place."

"Excellent," Pop says, slapping a hand to Boomer's shoulder. "Let's burn this motherfucker to the ground."

Knowing the clock is literally ticking, we all hurry toward the bay door. Boomer is the last of us to make our way outside, checking his work one last time and setting the timer.

"We have three minutes," Boomer says, and it's all the encouragement we need to haul ass.

We stick to the same path we took on our way in, and when the van comes into view, I'm ready to sprint toward it. Tank must catch sight of us, too, because the van's engine fires up, signaling it's time to get the fuck outta here. The side door opens, and the prospect's head pops out.

"You fuckers ready to go?" he asks.

"Almost," Pop says as he turns to the rest of us. "Do we want to stick around to make sure it's done?" His eyes flash to me. "You want to see this through, don't you?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely."

We all turn to look toward the dark sky in the distance as Boomer checks his watch. "Should be just about ... now."

Not a moment later, the night explodes in a burst of orange and yellow, flames shooting into the sky and smaller explosions sending barrels, crates, and other debris into the air.

"Ho-ly shit," Mac says, whistling. "We better get the fuck outta here. With the size of that fire, it won't take long for TFD to show up."

"Yeah. Let's load up, boys," Pop says, climbing into the front passenger seat of the van, with the rest of us following suit.

Everyone inside the van is ... wired, knowing they'll soon get their chance to pick off the Kingsmen when they crawl out from under their rock. But no one says anything about taking out Caius. It's an unspoken agreement that if I get the opportunity, the asshole is mine. While everyone around me talks about what they're going to do to celebrate once all this is over, I stay focused on the road ahead of us. Not a moment too soon, Tank pulls into the lot behind the motel.

"We split up," Pop says. "Mac and E, I want you to head over to their clubhouse and wait to see if any of them are still hanging around. I'm sure once they get the call about the warehouse, it'll be fucking chaos. Tracker and Boomer will go back to the industrial park and wait. Jazz, Tank, and I will bypass the highway and circle back to town. We'll hit them from behind when they're heading back in. If they're wearing their colors, take them out. Any questions?"

Everyone shakes their heads.

"Good. Let's go get this finished."

We start our bikes and file out of the lot, the three groups splitting off to go in different directions.

The Kingsmen's clubhouse is a hole in the wall, which is unexpected. You'd think that with all the money Caius is bringing in, they'd have better digs, but that's not the case.

The building is run down, the roof in obvious need of replacing, and the fence surrounding it rusty and sagging. But before I can add to my mental list of what repairs their building needs, a half dozen or more Kingsmen come pouring out through the front door, most of them heading straight for their bikes.

One after the other, they straddle their rides. A handful get their bikes running and tear out of their lot toward their burning warehouse, but a few others are lagging behind. When the last of them finally pull out of the lot, I look over my shoulder at Mac and nod.

It's time.

Once they get far enough down the road, we start our bikes and pull away from the curb. They're so focused on getting to the warehouse, they don't even notice us getting closer ... until it's too late.

Mac is the first to take a shot. Even riding, his aim is dead on, hitting the first Kingsman in the back of his helmetless head. The result is immediate, and the rider slumps forward in his seat, his bike careening off the road.

Being at the back of the pack and practically unseen in the dark, it takes several moments before the other riders realize there's a problem, but when they do, we have the advantage.

We pick off the riders one by one. A couple more headshots and a couple to the back, we manage to bring down all but the two at the front of the pack. When they realize they're fucked, they kick their bikes into fourth and pull back on the throttle, doing their best to get away from us.

But we don't back down.

Downshifting, we catch up with them, and when we get close enough to see who it is at the front, I'm more than a little disappointed. It's not Caius leading the charge, but I didn't expect it to be. He's more than likely on his way north after being called back for the fire. It's the club's Secretary, Marcus, an old-timer fuck who's been around as long as the Kingsmen have been in the area.

As I lift my gun, Marcus manages to turn and hastily take his own shot. It whizzes past me, slicing through the material of my hoodie at my bicep.

"Son of a bitch!" I grind out, gritting my teeth. The sting is bearable, but probably only because of the adrenaline rushing through my system.

With a shaky but sure hand, I raise my gun and fire. And when my bullet hits its intended target, I get satisfaction in knowing I'm disassembling their club one long-standing member at a time. Mac takes care of the last one, an enforcer I'm not familiar with, and we roll past the carnage, ready to get back to the motel. My arm throbs, but I tighten my grip, holding the bars steady as we ride back to the motel. Even if they're not back yet, they should be soon.

"You okay?" Mac shouts as he pulls up beside me. "You're a little stiff."

"I'm fine. Fucker managed to graze my arm."

"You think you can make it back to the motel?"

"I'll be fine."

When we reach the motel, we park out back once again. Mac pushes his way past me into the room. "Prospect, you brought the first aid kit, right?"

"Yeah. Why?" he asks, opening a duffel on the bed.

"E got a chunk scraped off his arm," Mac says as he takes the kit from the prospect's hands. "Thanks." He turns back to me. "Get that shit off so I can see what the damage is."

"Would you stop?" I say, batting his hands away as he reaches for my shirt. "I never knew you wanted to see me strip so bad, Mac. Rose know you swing that way?" Hissing, I pull my shirt over my head and my arm from my sleeve. "Damn, that hurts."

I look down at the red and angry flesh, and even though it hurts like a motherfucker, it's really not that bad.

"You gonna be able to ride back?" Tracker asks from his spot across the room.

"I'll be fine." I turn my head and watch as Mac cleans out my wound and wraps some gauze around my arm. "But somebody tell me they got Caius. He wasn't with the group we chased down."

"We didn't, but we don't know what happened with the others. Carl and the rest aren't back yet," Boomer replies.

Almost two hours pass before we see Pop, Tank, and Jazz. When they walk through the door, Mac is busy changing the soaked gauze on my arm.

"What the fuck happened?" Pop asks, marching straight for me.

"It's nothing. Just a scratch."

"A scratch, huh? You try telling your mother that." He scrubs a hand over his face. "So, how did we do?"

"We sat at the gate and picked them off as they rolled in," Tracker says, his smile wide as he leans back in his chair. "It was like shooting fish in a barrel."

"And when the hell have you ever tried to shoot a fish in a barrel?" Boomer asks him.

"It's just an expression, asshole," Tracker argues, sitting forward like he's about to take a swing at Boomer.

"Would you two cut it out?" Pop says before turning to us. "How did you two do?"

"Fine. We took out seven of them. Marcus was the only one I recognized. But we didn't see Caius. Did you get him?" I ask him.

The expression on Pop's face tells me the answer before he even opens his mouth. "No. He wasn't with them. And I thought for sure he would be. But there isn't much left of his club, so when he does surface, we'll be lucky if he doesn't come for us."

"Let him. And if he doesn't, I'll hunt him down myself if I have to," I say, the challenge clear in my voice.

"Not like that you won't. You'll be lucky if you can make it back home before that shit starts to really hurt," he says, pointing at my arm. He shakes his head and exhales a long breath. "It's not worth it. His club is done, his warehouse is burned to the ground. He's got nothing left. If anything, it's going to take some time for him to regroup. And who knows, maybe we'll get lucky and he'll cut his losses and disappear."

Mac finishes wrapping my arm, and I pull my torn, bloody hoodie back over my head. "Yeah, well, desperate men do desperate things, and I'm not willing to bet Bella's life on a maybe. I don't think Caius Volturi will give up that easily."

* * *

The sun is rising when we get back on the road, and all of us are quiet as we load up. But we don't waste any time. The ride back feels longer than the ride there, and I'm left to dwell on what could be next for us. The closer we get to home, the more I realize Bella's still not safe. And if she thinks she's going home before Caius is dead, she's got another thing coming. She'll have to stay with me until he surfaces, whether she likes it or not.

I smirk just thinking about how pissed she's going to be. But before I can imagine watching her get all fired up, a familiar blur of neon green and black flies past us. Newton's bike comes close enough to mine that I have to swerve to avoid clipping his tire when he cuts me off.

"Motherfucker!" I scream, pulling the clutch, kicking it down into fourth and rolling back on the throttle ... _hard_.

The fucker's Ninja is no match for my ride, and I catch him in less than a mile. I get past him and roll the throttle forward, slowing him down while my brothers file in alongside him, forcing him off the road.

When he's finally on the berm and forced to a stop, I stop and hop off my bike, marching straight for the fucker. "You think it's funny to try and kill one of us? Huh, asshole?" I ask, shoving both my hands against his chest and pushing him toward the guardrail.

He's scrambling to remove his full-face helmet. When he finally manages to pull it off, he yells at me as he tries to swing it in my direction. "Don't you fucking touch me, Cullen!"

He misses me by a mile, and now that his head is exposed, I don't waste a second of the opportunity. With adrenaline from tonight still pumping through my veins and all the rage I've felt over the last few weeks—over Masen's death, his betrayal of not only his family but the club, Bella being hurt, and Caius-fucking-Volturi and the Kingsmen—I let it all spill out of me, and Newton is an easy target.

Trying to curl into a ball with his arms crossed over his face, he does his best to ward off my blows, but I don't relent. I land punch after punch to his face, his kidneys, his gut. I take out all my frustration on him, the ache in my arm all but forgotten as my anger surges through me.

"You like to play God with widows? Firing them when they need their shitty jobs to feed their kid?" He falls to his knees before rolling to his side and curling into a ball. I kick him in the ribs a couple times as he lies in the fetal position, crying. "How do you like feeling helpless, huh? You're the lowest kind of scum, you know that?"

Breathing heavily, I crouch down beside him and grab his jacket, gripping his chin and turning his head to face me. "I heard you told your buddy that you were waiting for Bella to come crawling back to you for her job. That's not gonna happen, asshole. She'll never talk to you again. If I have it my way, you'll pack your shit and leave town." I shake him and then pull him up off the pavement so our faces are mere inches apart. "There's no place for you here. Do you understand me?"

He nods but won't look me in the eyes.

"I mean it, Newton. You're going to request a transfer or whatever the fuck you need to do, but I don't want to see your ugly face again. And if I hear that you've been harassing Bella, I'll come find you and so help me God, you'll regret ever looking at her. You got me?"

Again, he nods.

"Good." I drop him, and his head hits the asphalt. "Don't make me come find you."

I stand and turn around, meeting the amused faces of my brothers.

"Feel better?" Mac asks.

I huff a breath and take a few steps toward my bike. "Much. Thanks for asking."

"You didn't do any favors for that arm of yours," Pop hollers from behind me as he gets back on his bike.

Instead of responding, I start my engine. "Yeah, well, I still feel better," I mumble to myself. "Prick had it coming."

* * *

**Translations:**

_**Mi má**__**s sentido p**__**é**__**same**_** \- My deepest condolences. **

_**Está **__**bien. Qu**__**é**__**date donde est**__**á**__**s**_** \- It's okay. Stay where you are. **

* * *

**A/N: Eek! I'm dying to know what you think of this one. **

**There are some great contests going on right now. I'm a judge for **_**The Perfect Date Contest. **_**The deadline for accepting entries has been extended until 5/30/20, so you have five more days to get an entry to us! You can find the FFN page by searching for PerfectDateContest under the author search tab on this site. And I'm also a judge for the **_**A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Contest**_**, which is accepting entries now through 6/22. And that one can be found by searching APictureIsWorthAThousandWords under the author tab on this site, as well. This one is primarily an image contest, and those images will only be found on Facebook. All entries will be posted on 6/22/20 and voting will be open that same day for one week. There are Facebook groups for each, so be sure to check them out! And if you write or are even thinking of writing, get to it! **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. And you can follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

**Songs:**

**Don't Fight It, 10 Years  
****Bloodstream, Stateless  
****All Around Me, Flyleaf  
****Reason Why, Ron Pope**

* * *

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1!**

* * *

****SO much fiddling was had. All mistakes are mine. A very special thank you to ghostreader24 for taking an extra look at this before I posted to make sure I got it right.**

********IMPORTANT****** Please read the ending A/N about posting schedule****

* * *

**Bella**

"_What do you mean you haven't been sleeping well? You've got nothing to do but lay around all day. No Sam to chase around. No cooking or cleaning to do. You aren't even coming in to work for a few days_."

I shrug, even though she can't see me. "I'm in a new place all alone, Rose. Every time I close my eyes, I hear some strange sound. It doesn't exactly bode well for a good night's sleep." I rummage through the kitchen until I find a bag of bagels.

"_Then raid E's liquor stash or snoop through his medicine cabinet. I'm sure there's some little helpers hanging out somewhere that would help you sleep._"

"No, I'll be fine. I'll probably be back home in a day or two."

"_Is that all it's supposed to be? My asshole husband never told me what was going on_."

"Mac hasn't checked in?" I tilt my head and hold the phone against my shoulder as I slide the bagel into the toaster and press the lever.

"_No, he hasn't. And he knows it pisses me off when he doesn't call," she says with a huff. "And he turned off the shared location on his phone, so I can't track him_."

"You don't know where he is? He didn't tell you where they were going?"

"_No, Bella, he didn't tell me. You know how it is. They don't tell us everything. I'm sure Masen never told you everything they ever got up to either._"

"No, I guess not." When my breakfast pops out of the toaster, I plate it and go back to the sofa in the family room, settling into my pile of blankets. "So, you're really okay with me not coming in to work for a few days? Or at least until everything has blown over?"

"_It's fine. It'll just mean you'll have a stack of shit to take care of when you get back. Call it job security._"

"I appreciate it, Rose. Really."

"_I love you, girl, but do you honestly think I had a choice about letting you hide out for a few days?_"

"What do you mean you didn't have a choice?"

Her chortle carries over the line. "_Edward didn't really give me an option about giving you the time off. And since he's one of my investors ..._"

"He told me you'd be taking a few days off, too."

"_And when is the last time I did what I was told_?"

Before I can respond, the sound of the front door slamming echoes down the hallway.

"Rose, I'll have to call you back." I disconnect the call and toss my phone on the sofa, practically tripping over my own feet getting up. "Edward? Is that you?"

"Yeah."

When I round the corner, I'm met with an exhausted-looking Edward. Sagging shoulders, dark circles under his eyes, and a layer of dust and dirt from the road tell me it was a rough night. But when I see the ripped fabric of his hoodie and the red-soaked gauze peeking through, I gasp.

"What happened?" I rush to his side, reaching for his arm where he's obviously injured.

"It's just a scratch," he says with a poor attempt at a grin.

"Just a scratch?" I look up at him with narrowed eyes.

"Just a scratch, Bella." He moves to step past me, but I stop him.

"Show me."

He purses his lips. "I don't have the energy for this right now. I'll tell you everything you want to know, but right now, I just want a fucking shower and some sleep."

Not used to his gruffness, I step aside and let him pass, even though everything inside me is screaming to make sure he's really okay. I go back to the sofa feeling somewhat chastised, but when the shower starts down the hall, I push away that feeling and get to my feet.

I walk through his bedroom and stand outside the bathroom, listening, unsure if my presence would be appreciated at the moment. But when I hear an unmistakable hiss from inside, I don't hesitate to open the door.

Standing at the vanity, Edward is struggling to remove his hoodie as the room fills with steam. An open prescription bottle sits on the counter.

"Can I help?" I ask, my voice barely rising above the sound of the running water.

His eyes meet mine in the mirror. I can see his hesitation, but he nods anyway. I step cautiously toward him, worried he'll change his mind and send me away. But when he doesn't, I reach for him. With careful hands I help pull his right arm from his hoodie before pulling it over his head. And while his injury is on the other side, his tiredness and the pain in his left arm are making his movements stiff and sluggish. He very slowly tugs the final sleeve off his injured arm, wincing.

"What happened?" I ask softly as my fingertips ghost over his bandaged arm.

"It's just a graze. Stings more than anything else."

Carefully tugging at the end of the gauze, I unwrap his bicep. The material sticks to his wound, and Edward grits his teeth as I pull away the saturated cotton. The gash is long but shallow and angry red around the edges.

"You rode all the way home like this? Couldn't someone else have ridden your bike so you could come back in the van?"

The corner of his mouth turns up. "Who said we went anywhere with the van? Me and the guys were just out for a night ride."

I look up at him, staring at him for a long moment. He stares right back, daring me to question him. But I'm unwilling to call him out on his bullshit. I know better than anyone that he's only trying to protect me from knowing too much.

My gaze moves back to his injury. My fingertips dance over the skin around it, and my eyes flit to where his heart beats in his chest, just inches away. If the bullet had—

My vision clouds with tears and my throat feels thick. "Who shot you?" I manage to ask.

He gently grasps my chin, tilting it so that I meet his eyes. "It doesn't matter. I'm fine, Bella. It's not—"

"But it could have been." I shove against his bare chest, but he remains unmoved. My voice rises. "They could have had a better aim and shot you square in your goddamn chest, Edward." I grit my teeth, and the tears that have welled in my eyes finally fall.

"Shh. Come here," he says, pulling me into his arms. "I'm okay. In the grand scheme of things, it really is just a scratch." He leans down and buries his nose in my neck. "I had my vest on. Even if he'd have hit me a few inches to the right, I would have been fine. I promise."

I wrap my arms around his waist and nod against his chest, breathing him in. A sudden wave of need washes over me, the need to reassure myself he's really okay, and I squeeze him tighter. My fingers flex against his back, and his lips leave tentative kisses on my neck.

"I can't lose you, too," I whisper.

"You won't, baby."

I lean my head back and look up at him. "We both know you can't promise me that."

He stares down at me, contemplating his next words. "No, I can't," he finally says. "But I can promise you I'll be with you as long as I'm here ... if you'll let me." The earnest sincerity in his eyes is enough to break what is left of my resolve.

Slowly and carefully, I reach up on my tiptoes and bring my lips to his. It's the first time _I've_ kissed _him_ in so long, and the emotions running through me as my mouth meets his nearly knock me off my feet.

Worry, relief, apprehension, hope ... love—they all swirl in my head ... in my heart.

His hands spread wide across my back, holding me tightly as his tongue glides against mine. One of his hands moves into my hair, and with a soft tug, he pulls my head back to grant himself access to my neck.

"Please tell me this means you're mine again, Bella," he says between nips at my skin. "I said I'd wait for you to decide, so you need to tell me if this is just—"

I cut him off with a kiss, rough and bruising, not bothering to hold back. I reach for his belt, unbuckling it and lowering his zipper, pushing his jeans over his hips and allowing them to fall to the floor. With careful but sure movements, he reaches for the hem of my shirt and slowly pulls it over my head. When our eyes meet and I show no signs of hesitation, he grabs the waistband of my shorts and pushes them down, leaving me bare, both of us now standing naked in the middle of his steam-filled bathroom.

"Tell me, Bella," he says, the warmth of his breath against the shell of my ear sending a shiver down my spine. "Tell me you're going to let me love you."

My eyes fall closed and I nod, the words he so desperately wants to hear lodged in my throat.

He reaches for my hand, pulling me toward the shower, and I willingly follow. The glass door opens, and we step under the hot spray. For a moment, we just stand there, our hands intertwined but our bodies still an inch apart. His intense green eyes bore into mine while we breathe each other's breaths. The weight of the moment isn't lost on me, and he must realize it, too. I know what this is, what this means. Taking this step means I will be surrendering to the feelings I've carried with me for so long. But the look in Edward's eyes is all I need to see.

He's here for this—good or bad—and I let myself fall.

With the last of my reservations evaporating like the escaping steam, I move that final inch toward him. My hands glide over his chest, coming to rest on his shoulders. And as he grasps my waist, pulling me closer, the feel of our bodies pressing together causes a familiar ache to surge through my veins and across my skin, finally settling low in my belly.

His mouth crashes to mine, and as our lips and tongues tangle, he cradles me in his arms like I'm some fragile piece of glass. In this moment, naked and exposed to him, I feel fragile, breakable, like if he doesn't hold onto me, I'll shatter into a thousand pieces. But his embrace completely surrounds me, holding me together.

I wrap my arms around his neck, and as I pull him closer, I can feel his hard cock between us. I also feel him tense as he holds me closer.

"Your arm—"

"Fuck my arm. I've waited too goddamn long to feel you like this, and I'm not gonna let some goddamn flesh wound stop this from happening." He pulls back and meets my eyes, his nearly black and blazing with want.

Staring up at him, my stomach clenches in nervous anticipation.

With no warning, I'm pressed against the shower wall, the tiles cool against my back. His hands continue to roam, but when he tries to pick me up, he mutters a curse. And not in a good way.

He takes a step back when I push against his chest. "What? You don't want—"

"Sit," I say, gripping his shoulders and guiding him to sit on the bench at the end of the shower. "I think maybe we should slow down just a minute. Your arm isn't—"

"Stop," he says softly, reaching for my waist. He pulls me close, and as I stand before him, he nuzzles his nose against my stomach, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses between my hipbones. "My arm is fine. I'm not going to let anything keep me from being inside you." He tugs on me a little more until I straddle him.

His finger nudges my chin, tilting my head until our lips meet. Our kiss is languid, the pace the only thing that's cooled since we stepped inside the shower. With a careful hand, he holds the back of my head as he kisses me, keeping the other splayed across the small of my back.

His erection is pressed against me, and my instincts take over. I begin to rock over him, our slow, purposeful movements causing jolts of pleasure to ripple through me with each pass of his cock against my clit. He's _right_ there. All it would take is one small movement and he would be inside me.

Feeling him like this, skin to skin with nothing between us, is familiar, like our bodies remember all the times we were together before. But it's not so simple. In the last ten years, we've lived separate lives. We've shared ourselves with other people, and in a moment of clarity, I fight against the urge to just push myself onto him.

"Condom," I manage to say, gasping as he thrusts against me.

For a brief moment, he grips me harder before his hands fall to my hips, his grasp firm as he holds me in place. His head thumps back against the tile, his eyes squeezed closed and his breathing labored.

"What?" I ask, my heart racing.

"When I told you I've never brought anyone back to my house, I meant it." His conflicted eyes open and meet mine. "I don't have any here."

I start to pull away, but his grip on me tightens, pulling me back and pressing his forehead to mine, forcing me to look at him. "Since Seth was born, I haven't been with anyone without one, Bella. And I've been tested in the last few months. I would never put you in a position where I could hurt you that way." His eyes fall closed as he tries to calm his breathing, and his whispered plea is barely heard over the running water. "Please tell me we're good. I don't ... I can't ..."

Hearing his words of reassurance, relief floods me. And as he opens his mouth again, likely to beg me to trust him, I brush my fingertips across his lips, silencing him. "We're good."

"Yeah?" His lids flutter open, and his lips hover over mine.

"Yeah."

It's all the permission he needs. His mouth covers mine. His hands roam, caging me in his arms. And as he holds me against him, familiar feelings bubble up inside me. My body remembers his, remembers _this_, the passion we once shared.

He devours me ... and I welcome it.

Edward's desire, his want is tangible, and it feeds my own. I move faster, grinding harder against the base of his shaft with each pass, causing his breaths to quicken and his groans to deepen. With hooded eyes, he pulls away, panting, leaving me nearly breathless myself. Wet, open-mouthed kisses trail down my neck until his lips find my nipple. With every swirl of his tongue, my desire builds, and when his teeth gently tug on the pebbled flesh, I can no longer stand it.

I rise up fully on my knees, positioning myself over him, and meet his eyes.

"I love you, Bella," he says, quieting any lingering doubts I have. "And I'm going to spend the rest of my life showing you."

"I love you, too," I whisper as I lean in to kiss him.

Gripping his cock, he guides it as I slowly lower myself. I close my eyes, relishing the feeling of being filled, stretched ... consumed by this man. Edward's hold on my hip tightens as he pushes the final inch into me. Our groans echo in the small space, and when he's fully inside me, we still.

Our foreheads press together, our breaths escape in heavy pants as we resist the urge to move. My heart races, and I can feel his thundering beneath the surface of his skin where my hands lay. I open my eyes and am met with an intensity I won't soon forget. Darkened with lust ... love and promises I can hardly comprehend, it's like he's staring straight into my soul.

With that one look, everything left unspoken is said.

This is for real. This time, there's no one to tell us we shouldn't be together. There are no real obstacles standing in our way. As long as we don't allow ghosts of the past to haunt our present, we have a real shot at being happy ... together this time.

Cautiously, my lips return to his, and I begin to move. Closing my eyes, I get lost in the feeling of being with him this way after so long. The way his hands hold me firmly yet gently, the quiet groans that resonate from his chest as he moves below me, it's all familiar yet new all at the same time. Unhurried and with purpose, we move together, and the urgency with which he kisses me steals my breath.

Wet skin glides against wet skin, the steam swirling around us as his soft grunts and my breathy moans echo off the tiled walls. The tightening in my belly comes all too soon and is followed by a tingle creeping up my spine. My breaths come faster, and I'm not prepared for the magnitude of the feelings now rushing through me. The pleasure is almost too much, my mouth opening in a silent gasp. I squeeze my eyes closed when it begins to pull me under, but Edward isn't having it.

"Look at me, Bella," he demands through gritted teeth, his thrusts deepen as he approaches his own climax. "Let me see you come."

I do as he says and open my eyes to find him staring back. Every emotion I'm feeling—need, hope, love—is reflected back at me, and it's my undoing.

My orgasm races through my body, radiating out from my center to the tips of my ears all the way to my toes, and I cry out. With my mouth open, the sound comes from somewhere deep inside me that was long forgotten.

Our eyes stay locked on each other, and as my orgasm begins to wane, his crashes over him. The groan that escapes him is low and deep, and I feel it in my bones. His head falls back against the tiles, but his eyes stay locked on mine as he pulses inside me.

My grip on his shoulders loosens as the tension leaves my body. He relaxes his grip, but he doesn't release me. Instead, he wraps his uninjured arm around my back, holding me against his chest.

"I love you, Bella," he says breathlessly, kissing my temple.

"I love you, too."

I don't know how much time passes as we let our heart rates return to normal, and no more words are spoken. I lift myself off his lap, and he slips from my body, breaking our physical connection, but I still feel tethered to him ... a pull on my soul toward his.

I offer my hand and help him to his feet. We're both a little unsteady, but it doesn't last long. He's the first to reach for the shampoo bottle.

"Turn around," he murmurs, nudging me toward the water. With tenderness I haven't been shown in so long, he washes my hair, eventually trading the shampoo for the soap. When I'm deemed clean enough, he turns to wash himself, but I take the shampoo from his hands.

With a smile and a nod of understanding, he turns and allows me to return the favor. And even though he was just inside me, this somehow feels just as intimate.

My soap-covered hands glide over his skin, and I take the time to admire his body. The last ten years have been more than kind to him. Gone is the softness of youth, replaced with hard edges and strength he didn't have back when I knew his body. New ink covers his chest and arms, and while I've seen most of it over the years, I've never been this close. My fingertips ghost over his son's name on his chest before moving to the black swan that adorns the other side. It's been more than ten years since he showed it to me for the first time, and it's just as sharp as it was back then.

"I get it touched up every few years." His voice is deep ... gravelly, and as I look up at him, I'm caught in his intense gaze. "It means a lot to me. _You_ mean a lot to me. I meant it when I said I never stopped loving you."

I nod and continue washing him, unsure how to respond. Moving cautiously as I wash his arm, I'm careful not to disturb the scab that has begun to form. The more I look at it, the more I think it could use a few stitches. When all the blood is washed away, I lean forward and kiss his arm.

The corner of his mouth turns up. "Did you just kiss my boo boo?"

I shake my head and smile, stepping away. "Come on." I take his hand and pull him toward me. "We're clean enough."

He reaches for the knobs and turns off the water. We move in companionable silence as we dry off. And as we move around each other in the small space, how he wordlessly sits so I can bandage his arm, it strikes me how natural it feels.

"You okay?"

His words startle me from my thoughts, and I look up. "I'm good." I step back and busy my hands with putting the first aid kit back together. "Why wouldn't I be?"

I can feel his eyes on me, but I don't look up. "Because I'm scared shitless you're going to overthink this and decide it was too fast," he says.

"I won't—"

He reaches for my hand, stilling my movements. "Bella," he says gently, "we both know you've been pushing me away for a while."

Even if they're true, his words hurt. "I haven't been pushing you away," I say defensively. "I just—" _buried my husband a couple of months ago_, I think to myself.

He grasps my chin, gently nudging it and forcing me to look at him. "I'm not going anywhere," he reminds me.

I nod and finish cleaning up the first aid kit, tucking it back under the sink. Meanwhile, Edward opens the door and walks into his room. I walk behind him, my hand firmly grasping the towel wrapped around my body as I watch him draw the room-darkening curtains closed.

He walks over to the bed and turns down the comforter and sheets. He looks up at me. "You're probably not tired, but will you lie down with me?" He hesitates. "I think I'll sleep better with you in my arms."

"Yeah, I can do that."

I allow the towel to fall to the floor before I slide under the covers. Turning over on my side, I watch as he does the same. Lying side by side, facing each other, we smile. My gaze keeps drifting to his arm where the bandage is already pinkening, and my eyes once again fill with tears.

"Come here," he says softly, reaching for me and pulling me toward him. "I'm fine, really."

"But you could have—"

"But I wasn't, Bella. I'm fine." He pushes a few damp tendrils behind my ear and cups my cheek. "You saw it. It's really nothing. The most damage it did was fuck up my ink. Yeah, it hurts like a bitch, but I rode home when I probably shouldn't have, which didn't help. I'm sure in a few days it'll be like nothing happened."

I nod and burrow myself deeper into his arms, his shower-warmed skin smooth and comforting as I breathe him in.

Even though it's only ten in the morning, my eyes are heavy. Wrapped in the safety of his arms, my body melts into his as I lie here. And even though it _feels_ right, doubts creep in, making me question if this is really what's best for me. But before I can give them too much thought, his steady heartbeat and even breaths lull me back to sleep.

When I wake, I'm still cocooned in his arms. I shift in his hold and look up at him. Sleeping, he looks peaceful. I smile, thinking of how peaceful _I _feel at the moment ... how right it feels. Right now, here, nothing can come between us. But still, a feeling of trepidation lingers. There are people who would rather not see us together, and I have to wonder just how difficult this road could be. I press my lips to his chest, trying to silence the voices in the back of my mind.

Edward breathes in deeply, exhaling long and heavy as his arms tighten around me. "You awake?" he asks, his voice rough with sleep.

"Yeah," I whisper.

We lie together in silence for several minutes, my head lying on his chest.

"We need to talk about a few things," he says, his voice cautious.

"That sounds ominous." I look up at him. "What's wrong?"

He shifts his body until he's eye level with me. He reaches out and cups my cheek. "Caius managed to get away," he whispers.

I nod once, swallowing hard. My gaze drops to a random patch of ink on his chest. "So, the Kingsmen will—"

"No," he says, shaking his head, "no Kingsmen. We managed to pretty much dismantle the club. Caius and maybe a member or two are still out there, but he doesn't have the muscle to come after us." He places a kiss on my forehead, his lips murmuring against my skin. "And while the threat to this town may be over, I'm afraid his personal vendetta against us, against my family, is not."

"I'm not safe yet, am I?"

"I'm sorry," he says, pulling back to look into my eyes. "But no, you're not."

"What does that mean for me? Can I go home?"

Disappointment I haven't seen in a long time covers his face, but he masks it well. "I was kind of hoping you'd want to stay with me."

"What about the boys? I miss my son," I whisper, avoiding his suggestion.

"I do, too, but it's not safe yet. I'll talk to Angela tomorrow and see if they can extend their trip by a few more days, just so we can have time to figure out if Caius is still a threat. Believe me, baby, I miss the boys too, but I'd rather Seth and Sam stay away until I know it's safe for them to come home."

I nod, even though I'm anything but happy about it. "I understand."

"Does that mean you'll stay here with me for now?"

"Can I go to work?"

He grins. "Yeah, baby, you can go to work. But you'll still have a shadow until we know for sure you're safe."

I nod and snuggle into his chest. I really want to argue, to tell him that I can handle this on my own, but I know he's right.

If Caius Volturi is out there, if his club has been destroyed, he'll be out for vengeance. And if I ever want my life to return to normal, if I want it to be safe enough for my son to come home, I need to do as he's asking.

"I just got you back, Bella. I'm going to do everything in my power to keep you safe."

I nod against his chest, and he pulls away, cradling my jaw in his hand and gently nudging it until my eyes meet his.

"I love you."

Before I can respond, he places a soft kiss against my lips. And as he rolls me to my back and settles between my legs, I begin to realize just how much he means it.

* * *

**A/N: How are we feeling? Do you think Bella's going to bolt? Are they closer to their HEA? And where the hell is Caius? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one. **

**So, I'll be taking a week off from posting next week. I need to catch my breath. Even revising edits has been difficult this week, not to mention I've not written a single word in days. I'm more than a little distracted. The world around me is in utter chaos, and my heart is hurting. I'm hoping a short break will help me get in a better headspace. But on a positive note, I'm not leaving you with a cliffhanger. I'll be back with chapter 21 on 6/16.**

**I WILL be around, especially in my group on FB, and Shift WILL post this Friday. **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

**Songs:**

**Never Let Me Go, Florence + The Machine****  
****Black Hole In Your Heart, Theory of a Deadman  
****These Times, SafetySuit**

****Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1.**

* * *

****Fiddling was had, and changes were made. All mistakes are mine.**

****DOMC - Devil's Outcasts Motorcycle Club**

* * *

**Bella**

I wake with my head lying on Edward's chest, cocooned in the warmth of his arms. The beating of his heart, slow and steady, thumps beneath my ear, and the sound is soothing ... comforting. I may still feel mixed up about where we stand and how everyone else may feel about us being together, but the steadiness of his heart reminds me of what is important.

He loves me, and I love him. Everything else is bullshit.

He shifts, his arms tightening around me, and I notice the change in his breathing.

"You awake?" he asks, his voice rough with sleep.

"Yeah," I whisper, raising my head and looking up at him.

He exhales, the heavy breath coming out as a deep hum.

"How is your arm?"

His lashes flutter, his deep green eyes meeting mine. "Sore, but it's okay."

I inspect it, my fingers tracing along the edge of the gauze. "It's not bleeding anymore. I don't think you need stitches."

"Nah, it'll be fine. Another dose of Ibuprofen and I'll be good as new." He turns more to his side and pulls me closer. "But having you here is probably the best medicine," he says with a grin.

I smile shyly in return. "Yeah?"

"Oh yeah." He kisses me, his lips gentle and chaste. "The very best."

I snuggle closer, tucking my head under his chin. "Do you have to go to the clubhouse today?"

He turns his head, looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand, and then he settles back into position. "Not until tonight. Everybody was going home to rest for the day. We'll meet up later." His hand travels slowly down my back, finally coming to rest on my ass, pulling me against him. "There's no way anything is pulling me from this bed until I'm damn good and ready to leave it."

I pull away and look up at him, smiling. "Are you keeping me prisoner now?" I mean it to be lighthearted, but his smile falls.

"I'd never ask you to be anywhere you don't want to be, Bella."

"Hey," I say, moving my hand to cup his cheek, "there's nowhere else I want to be right now."

When our lips meet this time, it's a bit less chaste, and when I open my mouth, allowing his tongue to tangle with mine, it takes very little time for things to heat up. I'm soon turned onto my back and surrounded by him. His hands roam, rediscovering places he'd explored before—so long ago that I'd forgotten. But my body remembers. When I open my legs without hesitation, he settles between them. We move as one, lazy and slow, and when we reach our peaks at the same time, an unexpected feeling settles in my gut.

Even though we've been living parallel lives for the last ten years, circling each other's orbits while traveling our own bumpy paths, I finally feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be.

* * *

"Sit," he says, guiding me toward the kitchen table.

I sit, my ass thumping down on the wooden chair. "Wh—"

"I'm making you dinner." He walks over to the fridge, opening it to assess its contents.

"I'm perfectly capable of making myself something to eat, you know?"

"I realize that," he says as he reaches for something inside. "But when is the last time someone did something for you?"

My mouth snaps shut. I want to argue, to tell him I can fend for myself. Because it's what I've always done. But I can't think of the last time someone went out of their way to do something just for me.

I clear my throat. "I don't know," I finally say. He eyes me over the top of the refrigerator door with a raised brow. "That would be really nice. Thank you."

He nods and gathers an armful of things from the fridge before placing them on the counter. He grabs bowls from cabinets and utensils from drawers and gets to work.

Cracking eggs into a bowl, he turns to me. "You still like mushrooms and spinach?"

"I do," I say with a smile, folding my arm on the tabletop and resting my chin on my raised palm. I eye the ingredients lining his counter and I'm curious. "So, what kind of delicacy are you making for us?"

"Since I haven't been to the grocery in a few days, I don't have too many options. But I think I can whip up a simple frittata." He looks over his shoulder and winks at me.

I grin and shake my head, leaning back in the chair. "Only you would think that's simple."

Watching him work in his kitchen is something I've never seen him do. My past visits to his house have been limited to quick stops or family functions, so I've never really seen him this comfortable in his own space. He moves around the room with confidence, whisking, chopping, and sautéing, and it's mesmerizing. After he puts the final dollops of ricotta on top of his masterpiece, he slides it into the oven.

He finally turns to me, wiping his hands on a dish towel. "I think I have a bottle of wine that might be good with this."

"Since when are you a wine drinker?"

"Since someone gave me a bottle as a housewarming gift when I moved in here," he says with a smirk. "And I'll never drink it on my own. You want a glass?"

I bite my lip, considering.

"Come on, Bella. One glass."

I nod in acquiescence. "Okay. One glass."

Two glasses later, the skillet is nearly empty, and we're both grinning and laughing as we talk about the last call from the boys.

"I'm pretty sure Seth is a bad influence on Sam. My boy is going to corrupt yours if we're not careful," Edward says as he picks up our dirty plates and takes them to the dishwasher. "There's no other way Sam would have thought it was okay to say that word. I'm really sorry, babe."

"No, it's okay. I think if Sam could adopt Seth as a brother he would," I say, giggling over their latest shenanigans. "Besides, he hears it from me, I'm sure. And he heard worse from Mase—"

The words die on my tongue. Even thinking about my dead husband while I'm dressed in his brother's oversized t-shirt and boxers and sitting in his kitchen feels strange. Not so much like a betrayal, but it does give me pause. We're in uncharted waters, and I'm not so sure yet that I can swim. I look up into Edward's concerned eyes.

"You okay?" he asks as he walks back to the table, his voice low, cautious.

I nod, still unable to form my thoughts into words.

He pulls his chair closer to mine and sits, taking my hand into his. "We should talk about all this stuff. I know you're having doubts."

"I'm not—"

"Bella," he says softly. "Don't lie to me. Please."

"I'm just ..." I sigh, unsure about how to express what I'm feeling.

"Tell me.

I swallow past the tingle in my throat and look up at him. "Aren't you worried about what everyone else is going to say? What they're going to think?"

He shakes his head. "No, not at all. We're adults, and if they have a problem with us being together, fuck them. No one else has any say in how we live our lives."

"But—"

"No buts. Do you love me?"

"You know I do."

"Then that's all I need to know."

"But sometimes love isn't enough," I whisper, my eyes pricking with tears as I recall the last few years of my life.

"Then let me ask you this. Are you feeling like you're being disloyal to Masen?"

"What? No. Why would you ask me that?" I lean back, trying to pull my hand from his, but he holds tightly to it.

"Because I need to know where your head is. I need to know if you regret what happened this morning."

"Of course I don't regret it."

"Then none of the other shit matters. If the only thing weighing you down is worrying about what other people are going to think, then there's no problem. The only thing that would be a problem is if you weren't really in this with me, Bella. Everything else is bullshit."

"Bullshit," I say with a small smile, recalling my exact thoughts earlier.

He grins in return. "Absolutely."

"Even if some of that bullshit is from your mother?"

He sighs and sits back in his chair. He tugs on my hand until I rise from my seat and settle into his lap. He nuzzles my neck, kissing the skin there. "If my mother has a single word to say about us being together, she can shove it up her ass," he whispers in my ear.

I burst into laughter, making him chuckle, too. When the giggles have finally calmed, I rest my head on his shoulder. "I wish it was that simple."

He tilts my chin up so I'm facing him. "It is that simple, Bella. I let her and Charlie dictate my life last time, let them to tell me what to do. Well, I'm not a kid anymore—neither of us is—and I'm not going to let anyone come between us again." His eyes search mine. "I promise you."

I nod, closing my eyes and resting my forehead to his. We sit like that for several moments before I place a kiss on his lips and snuggle back into his arms.

"There's something else we should probably talk about," he says against the top of my head.

"What?"

"The boys."

"Oh," I say softly.

"Yeah. We need to decide what we want to tell them, especially if you're staying with me."

"Do you think I'll still be staying here when they come home?" I ask, the unspoken question being if Caius will still be a threat.

He pulls back and I look up at him. "I'd like to say you'll be safe, that you can go home. But I can't say I want you to leave any time soon." His voice lowers, the timbre changing to one of desire. "I like having you in my bed. If I had it my way, I'd move you and Sam in here tomorrow."

"One thing at a time, okay?"

He grins, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "That's not a no."

I smile and lay my head back on his shoulder. "As far as the boys are concerned ..." I sigh. "I don't know. I'm not sure Sam would understand. He just lost his father, and I'm worried us being together will only confuse him."

"Bella," he says, cupping my cheek, urging me to look up, "I'm never going to replace Mase as Sam's father. No one will. I'm his uncle. I'll always be his uncle. It's my job to look out for him, to make sure he's safe and taken care of. And not just because it's what my brother asked me to do, but because I love that little boy as much as I love my own." He searches my eyes. "You two have always been family. But if I have anything to say about it, you and Sam will be _my_ family."

* * *

"You really slept on the couch while I was gone?" Edward asks as he settles onto the sofa to watch a movie.

I shrug a shoulder as I sit beside him. "It didn't feel right to sleep in your bed."

He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me to him. "You won't be sleeping on the couch anymore while you're here, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Good." He kisses my temple before reaching for the remote, turning on the TV. He switches on Netflix and scrolls through the choices. "Now, what are we watching? Tell me when something looks good."

We agree on a classic, _The Matrix_, and settle into the cushions. It doesn't take long for innocent touches to turn not so innocent, and before Neo decides to swallow the red pill Morpheus offers him, Edward has me laid out on my back with his hand up my shirt.

We make out like the teenagers we used to be, taking our time. Clothes are slowly shed, skin is exposed, and when we can no longer stand the anticipation, we come together under the flickering light of the TV.

* * *

"You going to be okay here tonight by yourself?" he asks as he shoves his keys in his pocket.

"Do you think you'll be gone all night?"

"Possibly. Pop wanted to regroup before tomorrow so we'd have a plan going forward, and I have no idea how long it'll take. If people don't show up for a while it could take most of the night."

I nod, crossing my arms over my chest. "I'll be fine."

"And I already sent Buzz a message. He should be here by now, so you don't have to worry about being left unprotected."

I smile up at him as he steps closer. "Thank you," I whisper as he brings his lips to mine.

His kiss is soft, and as he pulls away, he cups my cheek. "Don't thank me. It's my job to watch out for you."

I clear my throat and take a half step back. "So, I'll see you in the morning?"

"For a little while. I'll need to get back to work at some point, even if it's just for appearances' sake."

"Okay."

"And if you need me for anything, you can call me. If I don't answer right away, it's not because I don't want to answer, it's—"

"I get it. You've got church, and I know you can't take calls."

"But I'm still just a call away. Even if I have to call you back."

I nod, watching him reach for his cut hanging by the door. "I think I'm going to go into work for a few hours tomorrow," I say, waiting for his reaction, and he doesn't disappoint.

His jaw clenches, and his eyes narrow. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Like you said, we need to get back to normal, even if it's just for appearances."

He sighs, pulling on the leather. "No, you're right. Just ..." He pauses, looking like he wants to protest, but I can see in his eyes when he relents. "Just call me if you decide to go in, please? I want to make sure Buzz is on point if I'm not back here to follow you over to the studio."

"What are the chances someone can bring my car to me?"

"Shit. I forgot about that. Here." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small ring of keys, placing them in my open palm. "Take the Nova. I haven't had a chance to get your heap over here yet."

"Hey, don't hate on the Honda. That _heap_ has gotten me where I've needed for a long time."

"And it's become the biggest money pit we've had in and out of the shop in the last few years. But we can talk about finding you more reliable transportation another day." His cellphone chimes from his pocket, and he pulls me in for another kiss. "I will see you tonight or in the morning."

His kiss is quick but powerful, making me weak in the knees, and it's over far too soon.

"Remember," he says, opening the front door, "call me if you need anything." He looks outside, spotting a familiar club member parked outside. He turns back to me. "And Buzz is already here, so I guess you could ask him, too."

I watch him go, finally closing and locking the door when he disappears down the street. And when I finally crawl into his bed, inhaling the scent that surrounds me, I fall into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of a future with the man who is slowly bringing my heart back to life.

* * *

I'm disoriented when I wake, unsure what disturbed my sleep. The sunlight is muted by the heavy curtains but still streaming thorough the gaps between the fabric. With a bleary-eyed glance at the clock, I see it's late morning.

A bang echoes down the hallway from the kitchen, and I'm on high alert, my pulse beginning to race. Squeezing my eyes closed, I will my heart rate to slow, and I try to take deep, even breaths. I push away the covers and quietly get out of bed.

Still dressed in only Edward's DOMC t-shirt and a pair of his boxers, I reach for the drawer of the nightstand, pulling out the Glock he has hidden there. It's a larger gun than I'm used to, and the weight of it is heavy in my hand. I send Edward a text, gnawing on the edge of my thumb and bouncing my knee as I sit perched on the edge of the bed. Minutes pass, and when the sounds coming from the kitchen don't get any louder, I make the decision to find out who is in the house.

I open the door slowly and step lightly down the hallway, careful not to make a sound. As I get closer to the kitchen, the opening and closing of cabinet doors can be heard.

I peek out from the corner of the hallway, careful to stay out of sight. Esme is reaching into an overhead cabinet, putting away groceries, and she looks perfectly at home. When she lowers herself back down and turns to grab the next item from the grocery bag, I must not be hidden well enough. She shrieks in surprise, dropping the can of beans to the floor and bringing her hand to her chest.

"Jesus, Bella! You scared the shit out of me." She picks up the can and turns back to the groceries.

As discreetly as possible, I place the gun on a bookshelf as I pass by, stepping into the light of the kitchen.

"Sorry, but you scared the shit out of me when I heard you banging around in here."

As if my presence only now registers with her, she pauses, a box of macaroni and cheese in hand, and turns back to me. "What exactly are you doing here?"

"I was invited," I say simply, not at all ready to tell her what prompted my stay here.

She looks me up and down, her eyes lingering on the shirt that hangs on my small her gaze meets mine, a fire I haven't seen in a very long time blazes back at me. "I can see that."

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"I know my son has been busy lately, and he probably hasn't had time to shop. I wanted to make sure he was taken care of."

"We both know he can take care of himself."

She turns to fully face me, leaning against the counter and folding her arms across her chest. She raises a brow. "I think he still needs someone watching out for him. Someone who has his best interests at heart."

I chuckle, but I'm not at all amused with her show of passive aggressive bullshit. "Spit it out, Esme. I know there's something you want to say to me."

"I don't want you to get too attached to my son."

I lift my chin and straighten my back as I meet her steely gaze. "What your son does and with whom he does it are absolutely none of your fucking business." My pulse picks up when she stares back, her expression completely blank; I have no idea what she's thinking.

"You know," she finally says, "you really should have taken the opportunity you were given when you buried your husband."

"Opportunity? Do you hear yourself right now? What kind of twisted individual sees the death of a spouse as an opportunity?"

She ignores my statement and pushes on. "You were given the opportunity to pick up and move away from here, start the new life you should have started ten years ago when you broke my son's heart."

"Are you serious, Esme? I had zero control over what happened back then. You and Charlie decided—"

"We only wanted what was best for our children, Bella. I'm sure as a mother you understand that, don't you?"

"I understand that I would never do anything to jeopardize my son's happiness. It's one of the reasons I chose to stay after Mase died. Everything he knows is here. Everyone he loves is in this shitty town. I'm not about to rip him away from everything he loves just so I can start over somewhere new."

"So, you admit you would leave if you didn't have Sam?"

"What? No." I shake my head. "Stop twisting my words. I'm not going anywhere. You weren't enough to run me off ten years ago, and you're not going to do that now." My heartbeat thunders in my ears. "What I've never understood is why you hate me so much."

She takes measured steps toward me, and I take a few away from her, backing myself against the wall.

"Oh, Bella, I don't hate you. I've never _hated_ you. I just don't like you. You should have left town when you had the chance all those years ago. I wanted you to leave, your father wanted you to leave. But instead of getting out of town after graduation, you chose to stay here and torment Edward by moving in with his brother."

She's so close I can see her nostrils flaring and the vein in her neck pulsing. "I don't want you with my son, Bella. You bring nothing but trouble and heartache with you, and I won't watch you hurt Edward again."

"I'm not going to hurt him," I say with every ounce of conviction I have. "And I'm not the one who hurt him the first time." I narrow my eyes at her. "That was all you and Charlie."

Her own eyes narrow, and she opens her mouth. But before any more hateful words can spew from it, the front door bangs open.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Edward says, looking frazzled as he walks into the room.

Esme steps away from me and smiles at her son, straightening her shirt. "I was just bringing some groceries over." She turns back to the bags on the counter and pulls out a few more items. "I know you've been gone and probably hadn't had a chance to get to the store."

Edward steps to my side and kisses my temple when Esme has her back to us. "You okay?" he whispers. "Buzz called me. I got here as fast as I could."

I nod but don't say anything, watching Esme morph into her usual, perfect-mother persona.

"Why are you here, Mom?"

She turns back to us with her wide, fake smile still in place. "I told you. I brought groceries. And by the looks of your fridge, not a moment too soon." She busies herself by straightening the canned goods in the cabinet.

"You should have called first," he says, gaining her attention.

She turns to face us, leaning back on the counter. "Since when do I need to ask for permission to come into my son's house?"

"Since now." He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer. "Things are changing, so you'll have to give me a call before you come over from now on." His laser sharp gaze never leaves his mother, and the tension in the room is so thick, I'm having a difficult time taking a breath.

"I see," she finally says.

"Good." They stay locked in a silent standoff, and I begin to feel uncomfortable. But after a few moments, Edward cocks his head and furrows his brow. "Aren't you and Ali supposed to be in Tahoe?"

"We took the red-eye home and got in this morning. I got tired of waiting for your father to give me _permission_ to come home." The word permission is spat like a dirty word. "There's only so much shopping with your sister I can handle."

"Yeah, well, it might have been a little premature for you to come back."

"If I waited for your father to tell me it's safe to come home, it could be weeks. I called and talked to Maggie yesterday afternoon, and she said you all got home yesterday morning. There's absolutely no reason I have to stay away if the other wives are allowed to be here."

"Maybe because your fucking husband _told_ you to?" Edward barks. "There's a reason he sent you and Ali out of town. Shit isn't safe here. And it won't be for a little while yet. You should have waited to come home."

"And yet Bella is here," she says, her brow raised.

"She is, and she's not going anywhere anytime soon."

"I can see that." She studies us for far too long, and it makes me uneasy. "I can also see when my presence isn't appreciated." She heaves a sigh and turns to grab her bag from the counter. "I think I'll just go."

Edward opens his mouth to say more, but the ringing of his cellphone interrupts him. "Shit," he mutters as he looks at the screen. "I need to take this."

He turns and kisses my forehead. "Don't let her get to you," he whispers before continuing down the hallway.

I'm left alone with Esme.

"You shouldn't be here, Bella," she finally says, taking a step toward me. "You should pack up your son and make a new life for yourself somewhere else. I really think it's what Masen would have wanted."

I swallow hard, but stand straight, not allowing her to intimidate me any more than she already has. "You have no idea what Masen wanted for Sam and me."

She nods as she steps closer. "You were a sweet girl, Bella. You were a great friend to my daughter—"

"I'm still a good friend to your daughter."

She nods in agreement. "I'll give you that. You were even a good girlfriend to my son. But things changed. And looking back, I think the universe was trying to tell us your presence in our lives was never meant to be permanent. You should have taken the opportunity to leave town, to go and make a better life for yourself somewhere else. I really don't think this life is what your father wanted for you, or your mother for that matter, God rest her soul."

I grit my teeth. "My father has absolutely no say in my life. And he hasn't since the day I turned eighteen. Leaving this town was never an option for me."

"What will it take, Bella? Is it money you need? Will you leave town if I write you a check?"

Before I can respond, Edward emerges from his bedroom and walks up behind me, placing his hand at the small of my back.

"Pop just called me back. I need to go." He turns to his mother. "Why don't you let me walk you out?"

She takes a step back, but her eyes don't leave me. "No, I can see myself out." She finally looks at her son. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"I will."

She leans forward and kisses his cheek. When she pulls back, her steely gaze meets mine.

"Bella," she says coldly.

Without another word, she walks out the front door and closes it behind her.

"I'm sorry," Edward says before kissing my neck.

"For what?" I ask, my eyes still locked on the front door.

"I knew she was going to be a problem, but I didn't think we'd have to face her yet." He turns my entire body to face him, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me close. "What did she say to you?"

I shake my head. "Not much she hasn't said to me before."

"Whatever it was, don't let it get to you." He nudges my chin up with his finger and kisses me softly. "I won't let anything come between us this time."

I nod but remain silent.

"You want me to stick around and follow you to work?"

"No, I need to shower before I leave. It'll take me too long to get ready, and Pop needs you back."

"A shower, huh?" he asks, a smirk playing on his lips.

"And neither of us will get where we need to be if you stay for _that_." I push against his chest gently.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

After a kiss goodbye, he heads out with promises of seeing me later. I call Rose to let her know I'll be in later, but she's distracted by something going wrong on set. She mentions something about an allergic reaction to lube, so needless to say, it's a quick call. I shower and dress, and I manage to make it out the door before noon.

I wave to Buzz as I climb into the Nova. As I make the drive into the studio, I think about everything Esme said this morning, and the doubts begin to creep in.

Esme used to be supportive of my relationship with Edward. But when my father found us together, her tune changed. I expected her to have our backs, to encourage us to stick it out until my eighteenth birthday. Instead, she did what she could to keep us apart. The few times I spent at the Cullen house after my breakup with Edward, she refused to tell me how he was doing. She plastered Seth's sonogram pictures on their refrigerator, making a point to gush about the impending arrival of her grandson. She even tried to push me toward going to school out of state.

Esme and my father may have done everything in their power to keep Edward and me apart, but he pushed me away, too. It didn't take much for me to realize there was no point in fighting for us.

And while Esme may not hold the same power over Edward as she once did, I know she's still a strong influence in his life. If she doesn't want me with her son, no matter how many reassurances he gives me, she could definitely make things difficult for us.

* * *

**A/N: What did you think about the mini showdown between Bella and Esme? Do you think there's more to be said? Do you think Edward will stand up to his mother? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one. **

**The week off was good for my soul. There's so much more involved than just writing and posting. Edits sometimes take more brain power for me than writing the words. Lol. So, it was great to catch my breath and get caught up. I was also able to add to my banked chapters of both Clutch and Shift last week, so yay!**

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. And you can follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

**Songs:**

**Pardon Me, Staind  
****Pieces, Rob Thomas  
****Failure, Breaking Benjamin**

* * *

****Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1.**

***Fiddling was had, and changes were made. All mistakes are mine.**

***We've officially crossed into AU territory on this one. LOL. When I started writing this fic, I had no idea where we'd be just a few months later. So, for the sake of this story, let's all pretend there is no pandemic and Disneyland is open. ;) **

* * *

**Edward**

Running my ass back and forth between the shop and home and back again is catching up with me. I'm exhausted. I'm also having a hard time concentrating on work. After walking into the middle of the _discussion_ my mother seemed to be forcing on Bella, I'm worried about just how far she would have taken it if I hadn't shown up when I did.

The look Mom gave me when she walked out makes me think I'm going to have more trouble with her than I'd anticipated.

I look toward the office and spot her sitting at her desk, looking out toward the lot, seemingly lost in thought. She's been quiet since she arrived an hour ago, only occasionally looking my way. I know she's processing what she saw this morning and what it all means.

A loud, over-exaggerated yawn comes out of Mac, snapping me from my thoughts, and I turn back to the car on the lift over my head.

"Isn't anybody else fucking beat?" Mac asks, looking around the shop. "Why am I the only one tired?"

"You're not. You're just the only one bitching about it." I walk over to one of the parts shelves and grab the brake pads I need. "I actually went home yesterday and slept."

Mac smirks. "Yeah, well you didn't have a pissed off wife waiting at home for you. And when she finally got over herself, the makeup sex was fucking spectacular. I only slept for a few hours before I had to haul my ass back in here."

I smile, keeping the more private details of my day to myself.

"What the fuck are you grinning about, E?" Jazz asks, cocking a brow from his spot across the shop floor. "Something you want to share with the class?"

I look his way. "No, not really."

"Does it have anything to do with the fact that Buzz spent all night outside your house watching Bella?" Mac asks.

My grin widens, but I don't say another fucking word.

"Look at that smile, man," Jazz says to Mac. "That's the smile of a man who has a secret he _really_ wants to share."

I shake my head. "Nah, man. Just keeping shit close to the vest for now."

"So, there _is_ a secret?" Mac asks, sounding like a gossipy, giddy woman.

"Nothing I'm sharing with any of you assholes any time soon." I remove the bolts holding the calipers in place and slide the whole mess off the rotor, swinging it out of the way.

"Edward," Mom calls from the office, "a package showed up with your name on it."

"Be right there." I wipe my hands on a shop towel and head her way. She's sitting at her desk when I walk into the room, and she hands me the padded envelope.

"You ordered more patches?" she asks, likely recognizing the company's name in the return address.

My brow furrows in confusion. "You know we ordered these weeks ago, Mom. All the guys get one."

"Oh, I forgot." She shakes her head. "I guess I've been a little distracted today."

I meet her questioning eyes, and instead of discussing the safe topic of memorial patches, she moves into potentially dangerous territory.

"Want to tell me why you're back with Bella?"

"Just gonna jump right into it, huh?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Well?"

"No, Mom, I really don't want to tell you anything about Bella and me. What I do and who I do it with is none of your business."

She barks out a humorless laugh. "She said the exact same thing to me this morning."

"I'm glad to see we're on the same page."

"So, you're sleeping with her?"

"I am definitely not answering that."

She purses her lips. "You know it's not a good idea."

"And why the fuck should I care about what you think?"

"Because I'm your mother, and—"

"And nothing. I'm almost thirty years old. You don't get a say in my life anymore."

"So you keep telling me. But you don't seem to be thinking clearly. She's going to hurt you."

"If anything, I'd hurt her by—once again—letting people interfere in our lives. But I'm not going to let that happen. And I don't appreciate you coming into my house and attacking my guest."

"Guest? You don't fuck guests, Edward."

I take a long stride toward her, getting in her face. "What she is to me is none of your concern. If I want to fuck her, it's my business. If I want to date her, it's my business. If she'd have me and I want to haul her ass to Vegas and marry her, that's my business, not yours. We've got way too much shit to work out to worry about you interfering in it, so save us all the trouble and stay the fuck out of it. What's between Bella and me is between us and no one else."

"Between you and her?" she scoffs. "Who knows what kind of diseases Masen brought home to her. Has she even been tested? If you're sleeping with her, you're fucking every whore he—"

"Don't. Just shut your goddamn mouth." I bite the inside of my cheek, only briefly contemplating my next words, but the ire burning in her eyes makes me want to knock her down a peg or two. "If I were you, I'd be more worried about what your husband's bringing home when he's out on runs. After all, old habits die hard."

"You think that hurts me? Is that what you want?" She leans back in her chair and folds her arms across her chest. "I can already see it; she's going to pull you away from me."

I chuckle and shake my head, tired of her meddling. "It's time to cut the cord, Mom."

With the envelope in hand, I stalk out of the office and go back to work. It takes me less than an hour to finish the brake job I'm working on, and I can't get out of there fast enough.

The ride over to McCarty films isn't all that far, but it feels like ages before I finally pull into the lot. I park next to Buzz's ride and march inside. Like usual, my presence turns a few heads, but I ignore the attention. Instead, I'm focused on getting to my girl.

I want to call her my old lady, but I'm not sure we're there yet. I'm worried that too much talk of labels or what we _are_ could spook her. I already know I need to tread lightly with her, no matter how much I want to fast forward through the getting reacquainted business and make what we have permanent.

I've waited too damn long for another shot with her—one I didn't think I'd ever get—and being patient is going to be a fucking nightmare.

I pass Buzz in the lobby as he chats up one of the actresses and head down the hallway toward Bella's office. When I round the corner, I'm met with the sight of an oiled-up muscle head looming over my girl's desk.

"Come on, baby. We don't even have to go out if you think it's too soon. We could just fu—"

Her head snaps up from her desk, and her eyes narrow. "Listen, Paul, is it?"

The dumbass nods, and I hang back to watch with a grin on my face. I've seen this look on her before.

"Do you know what happened to the last guy who suggested we go out or even_ just fuck_?"

The thick-necked idiot shifts on his feet, no doubt hearing the tone of her voice. My balls are crawling up inside me to hide, and she's not even directing that shit at me.

"I threatened to remove his moneymaker from his body. So, if you'd like to keep your dick, I suggest you take it elsewhere but keep it away from me. Besides," she says, her tone changing once more, "I don't think the guy hovering outside my office would appreciate you encroaching on his territory." She smiles as her eyes finally flash to me, and I raise a brow, impressed she knew I was here all along. "Hey, you."

"Hey." I walk past the dumbstruck idiot and kiss her, putting a little extra tongue in it just for kicks. And when I pull away, leaving no question about whom she belongs to, I turn back to the asshole. "Do we have a problem here?"

"No, man. I didn't know she was with anybody. Sorry about that." He turns and hightails it the fuck outta her office.

"You showed up just in time. I thought for sure I was going to have to perform some kind of crude castration with a letter opener."

I look down at her but cringe away. "Don't talk about that shit, baby. Especially when said letter opener is within arm's reach."

She giggles. "Like I'd do anything to maim something that brings me so much _joy_."

"Well, there's more joy to come as soon as we can get out of here. You about done for the day?"

She looks over the stacks on her desk and puffs out her cheeks, blowing out the air. "There's no way I'm going to get this done tonight. There's been one problem after another, so Rose has been distracted. She won't miss me if I duck out a little early."

She gathers her things and I follow her out, letting Buzz know he's off duty for tonight. She climbs into the Nova, and I can't help but think about how good she looks behind the wheel. I follow her home, meeting her smiling eyes in the car's rearview mirror every time we stop.

She pulls into the garage, and I pull in beside her, cutting my engine.

"How about some dinner?" she asks as she pulls her purse strap over her shoulder, closing the car door.

"You don't mind? We could always order a pizza."

"No. It was an easy day, and I want to put your kitchen to good use." She smiles up at me, and I know she's being sincere.

"That would be great. Just don't go to much trouble, okay?"

"What sounds good?" she asks as we walk through the door and into the house.

Without much thought, I say the first thing that comes to mind. "You, spread out on my kitchen table. _Oof_." I cover my gut where she's just elbowed me. "What was that for?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, _seriously_. Why did you hit me?"

She shakes her head, smiling. "Go take your shower and I'll start dinner."

"Fine, but I'd still be happy with you on—"

"Go!" she shouts, laughing as she points down the hallway.

After a quick call to Pop to see if anyone has had any visitors yet, I hop in the shower. When my eyes land on the bench at the far end of the shower, a grin takes over my face recalling what happened there just yesterday.

The way she responded to my touch, the way she whimpered and told me I could be with her with nothing between us ... my cock hardens just from the memory. But it also reminds me I need to ask her to elaborate. Her telling me we're safe and knowing what kind of birth control she's on are two different things.

I ignore my hard-on and speed through the rest of my shower, anxious to be with her again. Maybe if I'm persuasive, I'll be able to convince her to try out the kitchen table.

The aroma wafting down the hallway greets me the moment I open my door. When I walk into the kitchen, Bella is bent over, pulling something out of the oven. The bottle of wine from last night's dinner sits empty on the counter with a half-full glass beside it.

"What smells so damn good?" I step up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, kissing her neck. "What did my woman make me for dinner?"

She laughs and shrugs me off. "If you get this excited over baked chicken and rice, you need to broaden your horizons. Grab some plates and set the table."

"If it tastes as fuck awesome as it smells, I'm never letting you leave."

She turns and wraps her arms around my neck. "How did the rest of today go? You never told me how church went. Any earth-shattering news?"

I know my smile is weak, and I'm sure she can tell I'm faking it. "There is, but it can wait." I pat her ass and releasee her to grab a beer from the fridge.

"I don't like the sound of that."

"I promise everything is okay, but right now I'm starving. Feed me, woman," I say with a somewhat forced grin as I reach into the cabinet for plates.

We sit across from each other, eating in relative silence, and I can sense the tension building inside her. She starts to fidget, playing with her food, and I know my silence is only making her anxiety worse.

Putting her out of her misery, I say the words I'm sure she's expecting. "We need to talk."

She pauses for a moment before piercing a green bean with her fork. "No good conversation ever started with those words."

"Doesn't make it any less true." I lean back in my chair. "Pima County might start sniffing around town. They know you're still associated with the club. Hell, I don't doubt they have files on all of us. So, they'll probably track you down to question you."

"Why would they want to talk to me?"

"It's no secret the Kingsmen were responsible for Mase's death, Bella. They're going to assume it was the Outcasts who left the mess in Tucson."

"What kind of mess?"

"The kind that gets the attention of the county sheriff."

She nods and swallows hard. "What do I need to tell them?"

"Just that you were here that night. That you slept in my bed with me."

She looks up and meets my gaze. "And if they press for more specific times?"

"Lie."

She looks down and nods slowly, taking a breath and blowing it out before once again meeting my gaze. "I just want to know one thing."

"What?"

"Did they all deserve it?"

"We wouldn't have gone up there if they didn't, Bella."

She nods her head, lowering her eyes to her lap.

"Hey," I say, gently grasping her chin, "you and everyone else I care about was in danger. We weren't going to let anything happen to any of you."

"Okay."

"So, if the sheriff's office comes knocking ..."

"I spent that night in your bed ... with you." Her cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink, and thoughts of bending her over the edge of the table and having my way with her flash through my mind.

But before I can act on my thoughts, my cell rings. One look at the screen, and my smile widens.

"Hey, Seth," I say answering.

"_Hi, Dad!_"

I watch as Bella collects our mostly-cleared plates and starts cleaning up the kitchen. "Did you guys have fun today?"

"_We did_."

With more enthusiasm than I'm used to hearing from him, he tells me about what they did at Disneyland today. I listen closely to stories about rides and shows, about having their picture taken with some of the characters walking around the park and what kind of junk food they ate. He gets really excited when he tells me about how he and Sam raced the cars at the Radiator Springs Racers, and the car Sam and Ben were in beat the one Seth and his mom were in.

"So, it was a good day?"

"Let me know when Sam is on, okay?" Bella whispers.

"Yeah, I will."

She kisses my cheek and disappears down the hall.

"_It was an awesome day. Maybe you and me can come here again. Oh, and we can bring Sam and his mom!_"

I smile, thinking that's a real possibility now that me and_ Sam's mom_ are together. "That sounds like a great idea, buddy."

I can hear Angela in the background, asking to talk to me. "_Mom needs to talk to you._"

"Yeah, I can hear her. Call me tomorrow?"

"_I will. Love you, Dad_."

"Love you, too, Seth."

The phone is handed off, and Angela comes on the line. "_Hey_."

"Hey."

"_So, do I get a status report?_" I can hear the sliding of a patio as she steps outside. "_As much as I love this never-ending vacation we're on, I'm pretty sure my husband would like to know when we can get back to real life._"

"If everything goes as planned, maybe another week?"

"_Is everybody okay?_"

"We're all fine."

"_How's Bella?_"

"She's good." I smile, and I'm sure she can hear the change in my voice.

"_Good?_"

"She's actually staying with me right now."

"_Really?_"

"Yeah."

"_Anything you want to tell me?_"

"There isn't much to tell, Ang. But ... yeah."

"_So, you two are back together?_"

"Something like that."

"_Well, since we're sharing life-changing news, when we get back into town, we need to sit down and talk._"

At the sound of those few words, I understand the anxiety Bella was feeling earlier. "What's up?"

"_Nothing is definite yet, but Ben has an interview in a couple of weeks._"

"An interview? For what?"

"_A job_," she says, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"I didn't realize he was looking for something else."

"_He wasn't. A headhunter contacted him, and well, if this pans out, we'll need to make some big decisions_."

A knot forms in my gut. "What kind of big decisions?"

"_Like I said, nothing is definite, but_"—she takes a big breath and blows it out—"_we might be moving_."

"Where?" I grind out.

"_I don't want to argue over the phone, Edward, especially since nothing is official, so calm down. All I'll say is it's not in Arizona._"

"Shit," I murmur.

"_Look, I'm just giving you a heads up so if it does turn out to be something, you're not blindsided. And if it does end up being a possibility, we'll sit down—all of us—and make some decisions._"

"I appreciate that," I manage to say, even though I'm kind of dying inside. The thought of my son moving out of state, being shipped back and forth for visitations or just not being able to see him on a random weeknight because he wants to hang out makes me sick to my stomach.

"_Now that we have that unpleasant task out of the way, if Bella's there it'll save me another phone call. Sam is chomping at the bit to talk to his mom_."

"Yeah, I'll go get her."

I find her in my room, folding a basket of laundry. At first, I'm a little irritated she feels the need to fold my shit, but then I realize it's likely just busy work while I was on the phone.

"You wanna talk to Sam?"

Her face lights up when I hand her the phone, and I kiss her forehead before I leave the room. I make my way back into the kitchen and flop down in one of the chairs. The envelope that arrived at the shop lays on the counter where I dropped it when I arrived home, and since I'm already feeling pretty low, I reach out and grab it.

The patches that slide out of the envelope and onto the table bring with them some sort of finality. There in stark black and white is my brother's name.

GBNF  
2-19-92  
Mase  
5-7-20  
Devil's Outcasts

I pick up one of the patches and run my thumb over the raised stitching. _Gone But Not Forgotten._ "Goddamnit, Mase," I murmur. Tears well in my eyes at the sight of his name and the date he died. And before I can wipe the tears away, Bella walks back into the room.

"Sam was so excited to tell me about his day. Did Seth tell you about the race— What's wrong?" She rushes to my side and cradles my face in her palms. The concern in her eyes makes my throat tighten more.

I hold up the patch, motioning toward the others on the table, and understanding dawns on her.

"Oh," she says softly, slowly lowering herself into the chair across from me and picking up one of her own.

"Yeah." I clear my throat and wipe my eyes, feeling like a pussy for being so emotional. "I didn't expect these to come in for a little while yet. I only ordered them a couple weeks ago."

"They turned out well." Her voice is still subdued, and it's killing me not to know what she's thinking.

"They did."

"There's a lot there."

I nod my head. "I had one made for Sam, too. Even if he never rides, I wanted him to have one."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that even more as he gets older." Her voice is raspy as she speaks, and I can hear how difficult it is for her to talk about this. "So, every patch holder will stitch one on their cut?"

I nod my head. "We all lost a brother," I say, my voice cracking slightly on the last word.

"Oh, Edward." She climbs into my lap and holds me as I cry silently, my face buried in her neck and my tears soaking into her shirt.

As she tries to comfort me, the only thing I can think about is the fact that my brother's widow is holding me. The woman who so willingly shared her body with me just yesterday and told me she loved me wouldn't have admitted her feelings, wouldn't be here right now if Masen had never died. The guilt I haven't acknowledged eats away just a little more of my already tortured soul.

"Shh," she says, running her fingers through my hair. "I wish I had a way to make you feel better, but I ..."

I look up then, meeting her tear-filled eyes and shake my head. "No, don't." I wipe my face on my shirtsleeve and sit back in my chair, bringing her with me. "You shouldn't be trying to make me feel better, Bella. Believe me, my head is fucked right now."

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks softly.

"I think if you could hear what's going through my head, you'd run away and never look back."

She pulls away and stares into my eyes. "I seriously doubt that." She pushes the hair off my face, her fingernails gently scratching as she does, and my eyes fall closed. "Tell me."

I don't open my eyes, too chickenshit to look at her. My voice is low and gravelly, and my stomach ties itself into a knot as I open my mouth. I'm certain once she knows what's going through my head, she'll lose all respect for me.

But I can't bring myself to keep anything from her. She's been lied to too many times, and I won't start our relationship that way.

"I've got to be the worst brother on the face of the fucking Earth."

"We both know you're not," she says, her nails still running through my hair.

"I was just thinking ... if he were still here"—my voice drops to a whisper—"you wouldn't be."

She ceases all movement. I'm not even sure if she's still breathing, so I slowly open my eyes.

"I'm a selfish bastard, Bella, because I'm not sure—"

She places a finger over my lips, effectively silencing me. "Don't, Edward." Those tears she's been holding onto finally spill onto her cheeks. "We both know you don't mean that." Her own voice drops to a whisper. "You loved him. We both did. And he loved both of us in his own way. I think we were the best parts of his life, other than Sam. I know he would want all of us to be happy."

"But would he be happy that we're—"

"He's gone, Edward, and he's not coming back. The only thing we can do is honor him by making the best of our future. He would want us to be happy," she repeats. She lays her head on my shoulder and cradles the back of my head in her hand.

"I know," I murmur against the top of her head.

We sit in silence in the middle of my kitchen, the ticking of the clock the only sound other than our breathing. And as we sit wrapped in each other's arms, it makes me ache for the years we lost because of outside interference. But those thoughts cause the guilt to rise all over again, knowing that my brother had to die to have her back in my life.

"Have you ever thought about what your life would look like if you'd left town back then ... if you would have gotten out of here after graduation? Do you think we would have found our way back to each other before now?"

She grips my hair in her fingers and tugs, pulling my head back so I meet her eyes. "I don't know. I don't live in fairy tales. This _is_ my life, Edward. Yours too. There's no _what if,_ because it doesn't matter. And to be honest, I don't like the _what if_. What if means I wouldn't have had those few years of happiness with Masen. I wouldn't have been able to give _him_ a few years of happiness, and we both know his life growing up was absolute shit. I gave him something he'd never had before—a family—and I can't regret that. I won't. Without my time with Masen, I wouldn't have Sam, and I can't imagine my life without my little boy."

She takes a deep breath and blows it out. "Just because things were over between Masen and me before he died doesn't mean his death didn't break my heart. He's my son's father. He was my husband for seven years. But the rest of my life can't be tied down by a ghost." Her brown eyes burn into mine. "I'm ready to move forward. Please tell me I'm right to trust you to be the one I do that with."

I tilt her chin up until her mouth is near mine. "You are," I whisper against her lips. "Nothing is going to come between us this time."

The kiss we share is bittersweet, saying goodbye to the past, as painful as it's been, and making a promise to each other about the future we both want so badly. I'll do what I have to do to make it work, because now that I have her, I'm not fucking living without her ever again.

I've broken too many promises to her already.

* * *

**A/N: Do you think Edward did a good enough job of standing up to his mother? Do you think he's right to be worried she'll continue to interfere? Do you think the guilt over being together will follow them? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one. **

*****Fundraiser announcement! One of our TwiSisters is fighting Covid-19 and has been moved to a long-term care facility to continue her recovery. As you can imagine, her medical bills are mounting. To help, a long list of authors have agreed to donate their time to a series of Zoom calls with their readers. For a donation of five dollars to the GoFundMe page set up by her family, you can spend an hour chatting with one of your favorite authors. My Zoom session has been scheduled for July 18 at 8:00 pm, EST. I'd love for you to come hang out and chat with me, and it's for a great cause. See the Facebook group, Author's 411, for more details. A schedule listing participating authors and times should be posted in the group soon. **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. And you can follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

**Songs:**

**No Way, Pearl Jam  
****Cross to Bear, Staind  
****Weak, Seether**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter one!**

* * *

****For a chance to win to win a One Shot written by me for you, see details below. **

* * *

**Bella**

"Bella!" Edward shouts from the bedroom.

"Yeah?" I flip through the stack of mail Buzz brought by from my place this morning. The bills have been piling up during the week I've spent at Edward's. They need to be paid, but I'm hardly in the mood to deal with it right now.

"Did you wash my clothes?" He walks into the kitchen in just his boxers, and I'm kind of struck dumb by the sight of him.

"Huh?" I ask, my eyes trained on his bare chest and the trail of hair leading down toward—

"Hey. Eyes up here," he says, snapping his fingers in front of my face.

"Sorry," I mumble, my cheeks suddenly feeling hot. "What did you need?"

"I'm down to sweatpants and cargo shorts in my drawers, and my hamper's empty. I asked if you did my laundry. I need jeans."

"Oh, yeah." I walk through the kitchen and into the utility room, grabbing the basket of folded jeans off the top of the dryer. "If you were digging through the hamper, does that mean you were going to wear dirty jeans? Because that's gross." I turn and hand it to him. "Here."

His brow furrows as he looks at the stack of folded denim. "When did you wash these and ... _why_? You know I'm perfectly capable of washing my own clothes."

"I know. And I started them once you turned off the shower last night and tossed them in the dryer when I got up to make coffee." I shrug a shoulder. "It's no big deal."

"It is to me. Thank you." He leans forward to kiss me, and I return it wholeheartedly.

I follow him as he walks back into the bedroom. "So," I begin, sitting cross-legged on his bed, watching him dress for the day, "has the sheriff's department been by the shop to question anyone yet?"

"No, but if they're gonna do it, it'll be soon. We'll see them before the weekend, I'm sure."

I nod, absentmindedly chewing on the side of my thumb.

"Hey, stop," he says softly, pulling the abused digit from my mouth. "You'll hurt yourself if you keep it up." He kisses me, making me momentarily forget what I was worried about just a moment ago. Then he pulls away and reaches for a clean t-shirt. "What time will you be off today?"

I breathe deeply and blow it out, trying to focus, which is hard, considering the view. "Probably later than yesterday. Leaving early the last few days means I have a lot to get caught up on. But I shouldn't be later than six. Do you want me to cook for us again?"

"I think we should cook outside tonight. It's a little cooler than yesterday, and there are still a couple steaks Mom brought over in the fridge."

Apparently, my internal grunt at the mention of his mother isn't quite so internal.

"What was _that_ sound for?"

"What sound?"

"I don't know," he says, motioning his hand in a circle in my direction. "That _grunt_ you just made."

"I'd really rather you not talk about your mother right now."

"Are you ever going to tell me what she said to you the other day?" He sits down on the bed beside me, taking my hand. "I don't want any secrets between us, Bella. I've been honest with you about every damn thing, so I'd appreciate it if you did the same."

I scowl up at him, knowing he's right, the damn, beautiful bastard. "She wasn't happy I was here."

"No shit," he says with a chuckle.

"I think she's going to make things difficult for us."

"She's going to _try_. But I'm not going to let her interfere, Bella."

I look into his earnest eyes, and I know I need to tell him what she said to me.

Sensing there's more, he reaches out and cups my face in his hand. "What did she say?"

I huff a laugh, but there's nothing funny about this situation. "She actually asked me if I'd leave town if she wrote me a check."

Edward's entire body tenses, his nostrils flare, and his hold on my cheek tightens infinitesimally.

"She actually asked you that?" he grinds out.

"She did. But I didn't have the chance to tell her to take her checkbook and shove it up her ass before you walked back into the room."

His stance relaxes slightly, but I can still see he's hurt by his mother's suggestion. "If she's writing any checks, it'll be to me for all the therapy I should have gotten over the years."

"You know I'd never—"

"I know. It still pisses me the fuck off that she'd even suggest shit like that."

I climb off the bed and open the dresser drawer he emptied and filled with my things a few days ago, looking for clean panties so I can shower. "Honestly, I'm surprised she didn't try to shove cash in my pocket." I close the drawer and turn around. "Your mother isn't going to be easily convinced to back off."

He rises from the bed and walks toward me, pulling the panties from my hand and wrapping an arm around my waist. "You leave my mother to me. But in the meantime"—he pulls me tighter against him—"why don't we get you showered and ready for work?"

I smile against his lips. "We?"

He nods, his smile wide. "We."

"You already had a shower last night."

"But I'm a dirty, dirty boy." He walks me backward toward his bathroom. "I think I need another one."

"You'll be late for work," I insist as he pulls my shirt over my head.

He tosses the shirt into the corner of the bathroom before pulling off his own. "I'm the boss's son. Hell, my name's on the building. I can get away with it."

He opens the shower door and turns on the water, all while keeping me held against him. And when he drags me under the still-warming spray, I squeal and laugh. But the laughter soon changes to something else entirely when he pins me against the wall.

A girl could get used to starting her days like this.

* * *

"Bella, you've got a visitor," Rose says, knocking on my office door.

I look up from my computer screen and look past my boss. I'm met with familiar brown eyes, and my stomach tightens. I haven't seen him since the day of Masen's funeral, and even then, he never approached me. "Chief Swan."

"Is that any way to say hello to your father?" Charlie says, his hands resting on his hips in a familiar stance.

"You gonna be okay?" Rose asks as she walks closer. "Do I need to stick around?"

I smile at her concern but shake my head. "No, I'll be fine. But maybe leave my door open?"

She sees herself out but leaves the office door open as I asked. I turn my attention back to the man responsible for knocking up my mother twenty-seven years ago. "What can I do for you, Chief Swan?"

"So, that's how it's going to be?"

I fold my hands on my desk and straighten my back, unwilling to offer him any more than basic politeness.

"I guess some things never change." He sighs before pointing to the chair across from my desk. "Mind if I ..."

"Not at all." I watch as he settles into the chair, and I just can't help myself. "But I can't guarantee someone's naked ass hasn't sat in it recently. I'm sure you can understand that, McCarty Adult Films being the business it is."

He purses his lips. "I'm up to date on my vaccinations, so I'm pretty sure I'll be okay."

"You still haven't said what brings you by this morning."

"I need to ask you a few questions, Bella."

I lean back in my chair and smooth out my shirt, buying a few moments to calm my heart that seems to be racing its way up my throat. "And what questions would those be?"

"I need to know where you were on Sunday night. Your neighbors said you haven't been home for several days."

I lift my chin and straighten my back, ignoring the trembling of my insides. "I've been staying with Edward."

His eyes tighten. "You're staying with Cullen?"

"I have been."

"Have you been staying there since your husband died?" he asks, his tone accusing. "I'm sure Cullen just _jumped_ at the chance to offer that. What about your boy? What does Sam think about shacking up with his uncle?"

I swallow, ignoring his insinuation. "No, Charlie. I've been staying with Edward for about a week. Sam is out of town with his cousin on vacation, if you must know, and I didn't want to be home alone."

He pulls a notepad from his shirt pocket, withdrawing a small pen from the spiral binding. "Do you know Edward's whereabouts that night?" He's poised to write my incriminating confession, I'm sure, but I smile, knowing he's not going to get that from me.

"He was home."

"But can you confirm he didn't leave the house all night?"

"I can."

"How?"

I take a deep breath and blow it out, steadying myself to confess an upside-down version of the truth. "Because I spent the entire night in his bed."

"Damnit, Bella," he mutters, slapping the small notebook down on his thigh. He looks me up and down, his disgust for me written all over his face. "Do you know how much of a whore that makes you?"

His words sting, but they're not unexpected. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Chief. But I really don't give a shit about your opinion of me."

"You should have gotten out years ago, but those people keep dragging you back in."

My pulse races, and I can feel the anger I have for this worthless excuse for a man seated across from me grow. "And I'm sure the kickbacks the club gives you for information and connections aren't keeping you chained to them like their bitch, hmm?"

"Watch it, Bella, I—"

"You what? You've been in their pocket for more years than I've even known any of them, so don't come to me and spout bullshit about how I should get out. If you were that concerned, you would have sent me to school after I graduated, or hell, I don't know, _given a shit_ about me. I own my decisions, Charlie, but you didn't exactly make it easy for me to make a better life for myself. So, who I choose to spend my time with, in any capacity, is none of your fucking business ... Chief."

We sit in a silent standoff, the music from the set echoing down the hall. If not for the death stare Charlie is currently giving me, it would be comical.

"I'm sure Pima County will want to have a word with you," he finally says as he rises from his seat. He takes a few steps toward the door but stops and turns to face me. "Look, Bella, I know I messed up with you, and it's something I've always regretted, but I was only looking out for your best interests."

"As a mother, I can appreciate that." There's no use in saying more. Every argument I've ever had with this man over the years ends the same way. He insists he was doing what was best for me. It's not worth the wasted breath.

"And as a mother, you have to see that if you stay, your son will walk the same path his father did, get into the same shit his uncle and grandfather are in. Is that the kind of life you want for Sam?"

I remain silent, biting the inside of my cheek to stop myself from telling him to get the fuck out of my office.

"I know Masen loved Sam, and I have to wonder if he'd want this life for his son."

"You have no idea what Masen wanted for Sam," I say through gritted teeth. "He wanted him to have a family—something neither of us had as kids. And as for Masen, the club _was_ his family. So, don't come to me and presume you know the first goddamn thing about what he wanted for his son."

"It's not a life I wanted for you, Bella. It's why I tried to keep you away from it back then. But you're finally free to go. You should get out of here while you can. Take your son and leave town before it's too late."

He pauses, considering his next words. "You know," he finally says, "it's not just Masen who lost his life because of the club. There have been others who died because they got too close to the Outcasts. Just remember, I may have been a shit father, but I only ever wanted what was best for you."

Without another word, he walks through the door, leaving me to think about his parting words.

The rest of the day, I have a hard time concentrating. The numbers on orders don't make sense, and vendors' calls about distribution and shipments go unanswered because I can't focus on anything important. I finally give up trying and let Rose know I'm ducking out early.

"I'll come back in the morning and get a jump start, okay?" I ask her.

"It's fine," she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Take whatever time you need."

I kiss her cheek and wrap her in a hug. "Thanks. You're the best."

She laughs. "Don't thank me yet. You'll probably have a new stack of invoices to process tomorrow. Mac got in touch with a chain out east that wants to distribute for us."

"I'll be sure to bring extra coffee." I gather my bag and make my way outside, my constant shadow, Buzz, trailing right behind me.

I unlock the car door and toss my shit on the passenger seat. "I'm going to stop at the grocery on the way back to the house, Buzz," I shout over the roof of the Nova.

"You got it, Bella."

The store is nearly empty at this time of day, and I take my time perusing the produce. Esme may have brought over steaks and enough canned and boxed shit to fill Edward's cabinets, but she didn't bring much in the way of fresh food, and I'm craving a salad to go with the beef we're going to grill tonight.

I load my small basket with some vegetables alongside the bottle of wine and scented bath bomb I want to try tonight. When I look up, I catch sight of someone I could have lived a lifetime without seeing again. But in a small town like this, I know it's inevitable.

What I don't expect is for Mike Newton to practically trip over himself to get out the door when he sees me. It would be funny if he weren't crashing into unsuspecting customers during his clumsy escape.

I have a feeling Edward might know why the asshole is practically breaking his neck to get away from me.

I shake my head, turning back to my search for salad ingredients. I reach for a decent-looking tomato near the top of the pyramid of fruit, and a much larger, longer arm than my own reaches past me.

"Is this the one you want?" The deep voice is too close to my ear, and the overpowering smell of cologne burns my nose.

I whip around to face him. "Deputy Black." I take a step back, trying to put as much space between us as I can, but he closes the distance.

"How have you been, Bella? I haven't seen you around much since your husband's funeral."

"I've been good." I step around a display, putting a pile of avocados between us. "How have you been?"

"Oh, you know. Same old same old. Not much changes in this town."

I nod, pushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear and completely at a loss for words. I've never been very good with small talk, and the way Jacob Black is looking at me is enough to put me on edge.

"Your father tells me you've been staying with Edward Cullen," he says, curiosity in his tone. "Is there something going on I should know about?"

My brows draw together. "Something you should know about? I'm sorry, but what—"

"Has someone threatened you? Is that why you're staying with your brother-in-law?"

"That's a pretty big leap to make, Jacob. Why would you think someone's threatened me?"

"Because most of the men who are probably responsible for your husband's death were found dead all over Tucson Sunday night. My gut tells me you're staying with the club's VP because it's safer for you. Not to mention the shadow you've had for the last few weeks," he says, pointing out the store window where Buzz waits patiently on his bike next to Edward's car.

Jacob turns back to me. "If someone's threatened you, not only is it your civic duty to report it, but also it's for your own safety. We want to make sure the ones responsible are put away, not shot full of bullets and found on the side of desert highways."

I can't stop the laugh that bubbles out of me. "You're making assumptions that have zero basis in reality. My safety isn't in question. But my father-in-law and brother-in-law might be a bit paranoid these days, since whoever is responsible for Masen's death still hasn't been caught," I retort. "So, I guess you could say they're being a bit overprotective. No one has made any threats against me, but if they had, you are the last person I would contact." I tighten my grip on the basket and walk around the produce display. "You're just Chief Swan's deputy after all."

I push past him and walk toward the registers. I'm wound tight, and I'm sure I look like I could spit nails. The cashier is uneasy as I approach and offers me little in the way of pleasantries as he rings me up.

Pissed off and not in the mood to deal with anyone else, I stomp outside and get in the car, not even bothering to acknowledge Buzz. I'm sure he's already called Edward to let him know Deputy Black crossed my path. He's probably either pacing a hole through the shop floor or he's already rushing home to check on me. And for reasons I can't explain, the thought only pisses me off more.

* * *

**A/N: How are feeling? Are you a little more confident about how Edward is going to handle his mother? Do you think Bella's backbone is getting a little stronger? Do we all still hate Charlie? I'm thinking there's no need to ask that. Lol. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one. **

*****If you'll remember the fundraiser I mentioned last week, I forgot to mention I'll be raffling off a One Shot to one of the attendees of my Zoom session on July 18 at 8pm EST. For your chance to chat with me and be entered in the One Shot raffle, see the Facebook group, Author's 411, for more details. A schedule listing the participating authors and times should be posted in the group soon. **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. And you can follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

**Songs:**

**Peace, Weezer  
****It Was Always You, Maroon 5  
****Nothing Else Matters, Metallica  
****Mama I'm Coming Home, Ozzy Osbourne  
****Satellite, Rise Against**

* * *

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1.**

* * *

****Fiddling was had. All mistakes are mine. And while we're on the subject ... I'd like to give an extra shout out to my amazing beta, jayhawkbb. She's working double time for me since I'm posting two stories right now. In the last week alone, she's read through nearly 10k words of mine. She's even taken an extra look at a chapter when I didn't feel too confident about my tweaks. I'll never be able to thank her enough. Sending all the socially distanced cyber hugs and kisses, girl. I heart you so much! Xoxo**

* * *

**Bella**

The steam from the bath swirls around the room, and the scent of the lavender bath bomb soothes my frayed nerves. The half-empty bottle of red wine perched on the edge of the tub isn't hurting either.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

I smile and crack one eye open. "You're not looking too bad yourself."

Standing in the doorway with his inked arms crossed over his chest, Edward grins. "Think there's room in there for one more?"

I close my eye and sink farther down into the water. "Would it require that I move?"

"Guess that all depends on what you want to do once I get in there with you."

My smile falls, unable to continue being playful. "I'm not sure I'm in the mood for more than soaking." I look up at him. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, what's wrong?" He uncrosses his arms and steps into the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub.

"Didn't Buzz call or text you?"

"He did, but he didn't say much. Just that you got a visit from Charlie at work and that he wasn't there very long. And he said Black was in the grocery store when you were. Did something happen?"

I shake my head, not in the mood to dredge up the day's events. "Nothing I couldn't handle. They just pissed me off, so I'm not in the best mood."

He eyes the half-empty bottle and raises a brow. "So, you went with cheap wine and a bubble bath?"

"It's not a bubble bath. It's a bath bomb. Don't knock a girl's coping mechanisms."

"Never," he says with a crooked smile. He reaches out and cups my cheek. "But really, are you okay?"

I smile up at him. "I will be. Thanks."

He leans down to kiss me. "That's what I'm here for."

"I should probably get out of here, though." I lift my hands from the water and examine my over-saturated fingers. "I'm all wrinkly, and I need to start dinner."

"How about you relax, and I'll start dinner? The steaks won't take very long, and I saw all the shit you bought for a salad. I'm pretty sure I can handle that. Get dressed and meet me outside when you're ready."

"That sounds really nice."

Edward nods once and stands, offering me his hand. I take it, and he grabs a towel from the shelf, opening it for me to step into. Instead of leaving me to dry off, he wraps my towel-clad body in an all-encompassing hug and kisses the top of my head.

"I'm sorry today was bad." He tilts my chin up, and I meet his eyes. "And I'm sorry if covering for me added to your stress."

"It didn't. That was probably the easiest part of all of it."

He smiles. "I'm glad to hear that." He releases me and reaches for my abandoned wine glass, taking a sip before handing it to me. The grimace on his face makes me giggle. "I don't know how anyone can drink that shit."

"Hey, I told you not to—"

"Not to mock your coping mechanisms. Yes, I know. Still ... that's some nasty shit."

He ducks away from my attempt to swat him and disappears through the door.

When I've finished off another glass of wine and called Sam, I feel ten times better and ready to face the rest of the evening. I find Edward outside, pulling the steaks off the grill.

"You're just in time," he says as he walks back into the house. "There's a couple of potatoes, and I made the salad."

"It looks great."

He kisses me and hands me a plate. "Get what you want, and we can eat outside. It's cooled off quite a bit."

"I'd love to."

After a refill of my wine glass, I grab my full plate and follow Edward outside. The small bistro table is just big enough for the two of us, and I have a fleeting thought about needing a bigger one so Sam and Seth can join us. Imagining the four of us sitting around a table as a patchwork family makes me smile. I may be nervous about them finding out about Edward and me, but I ... I _want_ it.

I settle into my chair and dig into my food. "Mmm." The steak is perfectly cooked, and I can't remember the last time I tasted something so good.

"It's good then?"

"So good," I say around my bite, not at all worried I'm not being the least bit ladylike.

"I marinated these bad boys all day." He's so proud of himself, and it makes me smile. The domestic side of him is one I'm not used to seeing.

As we exchange little bits and pieces about our day, I skip over the less than pleasant parts. Talking this way is easy and comfortable, like we've been doing it for years. But when our plates are clear and our glasses are empty, the tone of our conversation changes.

He reaches across the table and takes my hand. "The Sheriff's Department finally showed up today."

My stomach flips, unnecessarily I know, because he's sitting across from me, and I know he's safe, but it flips, nonetheless. "Was anyone taken in for questioning?"

He shakes his head. "No. They pulled Pop aside. They talked to me and a few of the other guys. They even questioned Mom, but no one was taken in. Everyone has a solid alibi."

"That's a good thing, right?"

He shrugs. "I guess. I've never been involved in anything this big before as part of the club, but Pop says everything is okay. We all have stories that can be checked out. And you talking to your dad this morning helped give me some credibility."

"Even though I'm a patch holder's widow?" I raise a brow. "In their eyes, I must have a reason to cover for you guys."

"To be honest, if they've done their homework, they know widows don't get any special treatment once the club member is gone. Yeah, we cover the funeral, but after that, the old ladies are pretty much on their own."

"But you—"

"You're _Masen's_ widow, Bella. My brother asked me to watch out for you guys. That's different. That said, you're also the police chief's daughter. Everyone in town may know the two of you haven't been on speaking terms in over eight years, but I doubt anyone in the Sheriff's Department knows that. To them, being Charlie's daughter holds more weight, even if you're on friendly terms with the club."

"There wasn't any physical evidence tying you guys to the scene?"

He shakes his head. "Unless someone left DNA behind somewhere, and I can't imagine they'd find any. Everything we used that night was untraceable."

"_Was_?"

"It's all gone now. We got rid of all that shit before we left Tucson."

"And the explosives?"

He raises a brow. "How did you know about that?"

"An exploding warehouse is bound to make the news, Edward."

"Yeah, I guess it would."

"Can they trace anything back to Boomer?"

He shakes his head. "No. It was all stuff he already had, so there's no materials order for the cops to uncover. He said he used a pretty simple trigger mechanism that anyone would use, so there's nothing that tie him to the bomb."

"That's good."

"And it's not the only good news I have." His eyes light up in the dimming light, and a smile covers his face.

"What is it?"

"The detective who was questioning Pop let it slip that Caius was spotted in Vegas."

"He's not in Arizona?"

"If the information is right, no, he's not."

"How do we know if he—"

"We'll contact our support club up that way and ask them to check it out for us. If we get confirmation that he's up there, that means the—"

"The boys can come home!" I jump out of my seat and wrap my arms around him, squealing like a kid, but I can't help myself.

Edward laughs with me, his arms circling my waist. "Well, that certainly brightened your mood."

I pull away and hold his face in my hands, landing a sloppy kiss on his lips. "Our babies are coming home! Of course, I'm excited."

"_Our_ babies, huh? I kind of like the sound of that." His grin is wide, and his eyes are sparkling. "Maybe someday we could—"

"Whoa there, big guy. Let's slow down a little." I try to step back, but he pulls me into his lap. I don't resist, even though my stomach is a flipping mess at the moment.

"You know we should probably talk about it, Bella."

"Talk about what?"

"About what we both want for the future." He says it with such simple conviction, I find it impossible to deny him.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"First of all, I think we need to have a conversation about birth control when we're not naked."

I smile. "Yeah, probably."

"Because as much as I like the idea of having another kid, I know that's something neither of us is ready for right now."

"No, we're not."

He nods. "Then we need to talk about what we're doing to not let that happen. I think I should know what you're on."

I swallow, a little uncomfortable discussing something so personal, but I realize how silly I'm being. "When I went in for a checkup after my miscarriage, I asked the doctor to put me back on the pill." I shrug a shoulder. "I've had irregular periods since Sam was born, and with everything else going haywire in my life, I didn't want to add one more thing that would catch me off guard."

"That makes sense."

"Since you're the one who brought it up, what do _you_ see in our future?" I ask, a twinge of nervousness running through me.

"I see us ... together. I see our boys, and maybe another one someday," he says, placing his warm hand low on my belly.

"You'd really want to have more kids?"

He shrugs. "I would. Seth is the best part of my life, and I love Sam like he's mine. But I'd only want it if it's something you want."

I nod, not saying anything. I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't want more kids ... someday.

"And I know we haven't been back together very long, and it might feel like we're moving fast, but, Bella, I already _know_ you. I don't need weeks or months to figure shit out." He squeezes me tightly to him. "Look, I'm not suggesting we run out and get married tomorrow. I just want you to realize I want you in my life—permanently—however that may be. Even if you never want to get married and you never want to have any more kids, if you're with me, none of the other shit matters."

I look up and meet his eyes. "You really mean that?"

"I really do. You're it for me, Bella. You've always been it for me. It's probably why I never settled down."

I wrap my arms around his neck and bring my smiling mouth to his. "So, I get to be your ball and chain?"

"If you want to be," he whispers against my lips.

"I think I do."

Another week passes before the club gets the call from the Nevada support club giving the all clear. Caius has been spotted in Vegas, and Edward's friends up that way are keeping an eye on him. It gives us the green light for Sam and Seth to come home. It also means _I_ can go back home.

As much as I've wanted to return to my own space, when I walk into the stuffy, dusty trailer, the independence doesn't hold the same appeal it did just weeks ago. And the recently replaced carpet in the living room reminds me what happened the last time I stepped through the door of my home. The new flooring is similar in color to the old, but when I close my eyes, I can still see the blood stains and the crumpled body of the man I shot.

"You sure you want to stay here?" Edward says, placing my bag on the sofa and snapping me from my memory.

I turn and face him, putting my hands in my back pockets. "It's my home," I say shrugging my shoulders.

He pulls me to him. "You know my home is yours if you want it. All you have to do is say the word." His kiss is careful but leaves me breathless all the same.

I pull away and shake my head. "You've got to stop being so damn persuasive," I complain. "We both know we need to ease the boys into"—I wave a hand between us—"_this_."

"We can't hide it from them for too long. And I really don't think they'll have a hard time accepting it either. They're kids, and kids adapt pretty quickly. Besides," he says, pulling me back into his arms, "I've had you in my bed for the last two weeks. There's no fucking way I'm going to survive sleeping alone now that I've had you almost every night. How can you deny me?"

"I'm pretty sure you'll survive," I say with a smirk.

"Maybe I'll sneak over for a quickie after Sam goes to bed," he says with waggling eyebrows.

I laugh, shoving him away. "Only you." I walk into the kitchen and open the fridge, expecting to find a smelly mess to clear out, but instead, I find fresh milk, fruits and veggies, and a ton of fresh groceries. "Who did this?"

"Oh, I asked Buzz to pick up a few things for you guys." He wraps me in a hug from behind, nuzzling my neck. "No more noodles and eggs for dinner," he whispers into my skin.

"You knew about that?" I turn in his arms.

"Yeah. Sammy kind of spilled the beans a while back. You should have told me you guys were struggling."

I shrug, embarrassed. "It's a habit, I guess. Years of Mase not wanting to burden anyone with our problems and depending on ourselves is kind of ingrained in me."

"No more, okay? If you two need anything, tell me. You're mine now, and I take care of my own."

"Yours?"

He smiles and leans in for a kiss. "Mine."

* * *

Making plans for the boys to come home takes a painfully long time. They have two more days planned at the beach before they load up, and another two days planned for traveling home. in the meantime, Edward convinces me to go shopping for a newer car now that the clutch seems to be out on the Honda.

"It's past time to dump it, Bella," he'd said. "I know the expression is to drive something until the wheels fall off, but if you keep driving that piece of shit, I'm worried the wheels actually _will_ fall off."

So, that means I'm spending my day riding all over town on the back of Edward's bike, looking at privately owned cars.

"I still don't understand why I can't just hit a used car lot like a normal person," I grumble as we walk up the driveway of yet another house.

"Because used car salesmen get paid on commission. They'll say anything to sell a car, _and_ they're gonna charge you for inspections I can do myself." He knocks on the door and looks my way. "It's better this way. Trust me."

Taking Edward's advice works in my favor when we find an older gentleman selling the small SUV he and his wife bought when they became grandparents.

"The youngest just started high school, so they have better things to do than going out with Gran and Gramps for ice cream," he says with a sad smile. He looks between Edward and me. "How old are your kids?"

Edward pops his head out from under the hood and smiles. "Nine and six." He closes the hood and wipes his hands on the shop rag he brought along. "Everything looks like it's been well maintained."

"Oh, it has. I have all the service records if you want to see them."

"I would," my personal mechanic says. "Can she take it for a test drive while we discuss details?"

While I don't like the thought of being excluded from any kind of negotiation, I know Edward will do his best to get it for a fair price. And I'm pleasantly surprised when he shoots me a text to get final approval on the price they've settled on.

One of the perks of having an SUV is that I can haul more crap, which means I spend the following morning unloading the stuff from the storage facility. Edward comes with me, and I'm glad for it. Not only is he doing most of the heavy lifting, but he also helps me decide what I should keep and what I should toss or sell.

Most of Masen's tools are duplicates of what Edward already has, but he offers to store the larger roll around in his garage to keep for Sam. It's hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars' worth of tools, so I'm grateful he's willing to hold on to them for us.

We both ignore the pile of baby stuff in the corner, choosing to focus on the boxes instead. Boxes of clothes are dropped off right away at Goodwill. One box marked "paperwork" gets opened, just to see if it's anything I should keep or if it's destined for a shredder.

"What's all that?" Edward asks over my shoulder.

"Looks like old paystubs." I shrug a shoulder. "I'm not sure why Mase held on to all this shit. I don't know why he'd need to keep anything after our taxes were filed every year." I reach for the lid, but Edward stops me.

"Hold up. Let me see that," he says, snatching one of Masen's stubs from the box. As his eyes scan the paper, his brow furrows and his jaw tightens.

"Is something wrong?" I ask. Now I'm the one looking over _his_ shoulder.

"I'm not sure," he murmurs. He looks at me. "Mind if I hang on to this?"

"Why do you need it?" I ask, my tone clearly defensive. I reach for the paper in his hand, but he holds it out of my reach.

"Do you trust me?" he asks.

"You know I do."

"Then trust me with this, okay? I just need to look into something."

The expression on his face is enough to get me to relent, and when the entire file box ends up in his garage that night, I don't question it. And neither of us says anything when the pile of baby stuff ends up at his house either.

* * *

"What time did Angela say they left?" I ask, looking out the window. The anticipation is killing me. I feel like a little kid, but I can't help it.

My son is coming home today.

Edward walks up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. "They'll be here any minute." He kisses my neck. "She sent me a text about ten minutes ago and said they were just getting into town."

I open my mouth to ask to see the message, but the Cheney's car pulls into Edward's driveway.

I rush out the front door, and before I reach him, Sam is fumbling his way out of the car.

"Mommy!" he yells, running toward me with his arms wide open.

"Sammy! I'm so glad you're home." I scoop him up and hold him to me. With closed eyes, I breathe him in and realize he feels heavier than I remember. "Did you have a good time?"

"I had so much fun!" He wiggles out of my arms, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the car. "Come see the cool stuff I got!"

We spend the next ten minutes in the driveway as Sam and Seth show us their souvenirs, all while talking over each other and finishing each other's sentences.

Ben helps Edward move Sam's things into my car, leaving Angela and me to watch the boys chase each other around the yard.

"Thanks for taking him with you," I say, turning to her. "I appreciate it more than you know."

"He was a joy to have with us, Bella. Really. He had a great time, and he was really good for us."

"Did he have to use his nebulizer?"

She shakes her head. "No. He used his inhaler once or twice, but we never had to use the machine."

"That's good to know." I watch the two boys run circles around the guys who are now standing next to my car, locked in conversation.

"So, you and Edward, huh?"

My head snaps around. "Sorry, what?"

"You two are back together?"

"What did Edward tell you?"

The corner of her mouth lifts. "Not much. Just that you stayed here while we were gone."

"It wasn't like that," I say in a panic. My body tenses, and I'm worried about what she'd think about me being with Edward so soon after Masen's death. "We—"

She places her hand on my arm. "It's okay, Bella. I understand. And honestly, I'd have been surprised if it didn't happen sooner or later. And why not be happy sooner?" she asks rhetorically, shrugging her shoulders.

My shoulders relax, the defensiveness leaving me. "Thanks."

"You guys have always belonged together."

It's strange, hearing those words come from her mouth. But I appreciate them all the same. "You think so?"

She turns to fully face me. "I do. And I'd say I'm sorry for my part in you two not getting back together sooner, but that would mean no Seth. And I can't say that."

I look over at my son as he plays with his cousin. "Believe me, Angela, I feel the same way."

* * *

The first night home with Sam is spent eating takeout and curling together on the sofa to watch a movie. And as much as I want to sleep with him beside me, I know we need to get back to a normal routine, so once he falls asleep, I carry him to his room and tuck him into his own bed.

Edward and I spend the next few days sending each other naughty texts, but we don't see each other, spending our evenings with our kids instead. When he texts me while I'm at work to invite us over for a cookout this weekend, I smile as I type out my reply.

_I wouldn't miss it. What can I bring? - B_

_Just your beautiful self and my nephew. Most of the club will be here, so I'm sure there will be more shit than we'll be able to eat. - E _

_I can't wait. It's been a long week without you. I miss seeing you. - B _

_I miss fucking you. - E_

My cheeks heat as I read his last message. Before I can answer, another one comes through.

_Think I can sneak over there after Sam goes to bed? Seth is going back to Angela's tonight. - E_

I grin, thinking about how much I miss him as I type my reply.

_As much as I'd love to see you, Aunt Flo has decided to visit this week. - B _

I watch as the little dots flicker and disappear as he types and deletes his response. Finally, a few minutes later, my phone vibrates.

_Think I can get my redwings? - E_

A laugh bubbles out of me, and I shake my head as I type. _One, that's a no from me, and two, I need to get back to work. - B_

_Can't wait to see you this weekend. Love you.- E_

_Love you, too. - B _

Saturday rolls around, and as we load up to go to Edward's, the nerves start to set in. I'm not sure about how I should act around Edward in everyone else's presence. We still haven't had any kind of talk with the kids, not to mention his club brothers. I'm not worried so much about the kids, but I'm not sure how his club brothers will react to the news. Some will welcome me with open arms. Others ... I'm not so sure.

"Is Seth gonna be there, Mommy?" Sam asks as he buckles his seatbelt.

"I think so."

"Good. I miss him." I look in the rearview mirror and watch as he stares out the window, and just the sight of him calms me.

When we pull up, bikes line the street, and I can hear the music and boisterous laughter coming from the backyard. Sam takes off like a shot, and I'm left to grab the case of beer I brought out of the back. Manners dictate I don't show up empty-handed, and beer is a safe bet with this crowd.

In the kitchen, Esme and Alice are arguing over a veggie tray, and Rose is sitting at the counter watching them, drink in hand. I catch her eye, and she hops off the barstool and rushes toward me.

"Hey, chica! How are you?" She hugs me and whispers in my ear. "I don't think their trip was very healthy for their relationship. They've been fighting about stupid shit since I showed up." She pulls away and looks down at my hands. "Oh, you brought more beer! Perfect." She grabs my free hand and pulls me toward the patio door. "There's a cooler out here we can drop them in."

I follow her outside where most of the club members are sitting around, talking. A few are hovering over the grill, and a few more are standing off to the side in what looks like a very serious discussion. I make eye contact with Edward as I unload the case of bottles into the ice-filled cooler, and he winks at me.

Plucking a beer out of the ice, I try to hide my smile, but Rose picks up on our exchange.

"So, you and E, huh?"

"What? No, we—"

"I saw that, missy." She wraps an arm around my shoulders as we walk toward a small grouping of patio chairs set up in the shade. "I'm happy for you."

"Really?" I ask as I sit.

She sits in the empty chair beside mine. "Absolutely. You've dealt with enough shit to last you a lifetime. It's about time you had some good."

"Thanks. But keep it to yourself for now. I'm not sure if Edward wants to—"

"I won't say a word. I totally understand. Especially with the Queen Bee hovering in the kitchen. I have a feeling she doesn't know yet."

"Oh, she knows."

Rosalie's eyes widen and she leans forward, lowering her voice even more. "_How_?"

"She came over while I was staying here. Caught me crawling out of his bed basically wearing his underwear."

Her guffaw matches the ones that usually come out of her husband, and a few heads turn our way. "That's priceless."

I smile as I bring my beer bottle to my lips. "You have no idea."

Her laughter calms, and she sighs, focusing her attention over my shoulder. "Well, if you want to keep your budding romance on the down-low for now, you might want to tell him."

"What?" I ask, seconds before Edward comes up behind me, kissing my neck.

"Hey, beautiful. I missed you." He zips around me and kisses Rose's cheek. "And how are you, sweetheart? Having a good time?"

"Oh, I'm just great," she replies, her eyes and smile bright as she watches us. "And I'm having a _great_ time now. How are you, E?"

"Couldn't be better," he says with a grin, tilting back his beer.

"So, what prompted this occasion?" Rose asks. "It isn't anyone's birthday. It's not a holiday. What gives?"

"You'll see," he says with a wink.

"Oh, a secret. I like it!"

Ali storms toward us, grumbling as she plops into an empty chair. "I swear, if I have to spend another minute talking to her, I'm going to rip out her tongue!"

"Have we reached the contemptible familiarity stage?" Edward asks.

"You have no idea. I swear, she was difficult to deal with when we were in Tahoe, but since we've been home, she's been damn near impossible."

"What was her problem in Tahoe?" Rose asks.

"She bitched about being sent away the entire time. Every time I turned around, she was complaining about some of the other wives being allowed to stay and why she had to be gone. But I don't understand why she's still a raging bitch now that we're back home."

Edward's eyes flash to mine and back to his sister. "That's probably my fault."

Alice's brows knit together. "Why is it your fault?"

He reaches for my hand and squeezes it. "Things changed while you were away."

Ali's eyes grow wide and her eyes flit between her brother and me. She starts vibrating in her seat. When she opens her mouth, probably to squeal, Edward shuts it down.

"Calm your ass down, Ali. We're not hiding anything, but we're not broadcasting it either. Got it?"

Her head nods like a bobble head. "Got it." Her smile grows impossibly bigger. "I'm so happy for you guys."

"Thanks," Edward says leaning forward to kiss her cheek. Before he can sit back in his chair, he's called away. He stands and leans down to whisper in my ear. "You might want to watch this." He kisses the exposed skin of my neck and saunters off toward the circle of guys in the back of his yard.

Pop, Mac, Jazz, Tank, and now Edward stand in a circle, their arms crossed and looking entirely too serious, and I smile. This is all too familiar. When they call over Buzz, I snatch my phone from my pocket, opening the camera.

In the months that Buzz has been my almost constant shadow, I've gotten to like the prospect. And he's going to want to see this from a spectator's point of view once it's all over. I sit back in my chair and get ready for the show.

It starts calmly enough, the guys asking Buzz to join in the conversation, but the calm doesn't last long. In the blink of an eye, Edward body slams Buzz, tackling him to the ground. Mac and Jazz do their part to hold Buzz down, one holding his arms behind his back and the other piling on top of him.

Pop, meanwhile, teases Buzz by dangling his club patches in front of the prospect's nose.

"You want these? You're gonna have to fight for them," Pop taunts.

Mac scrambles off Buzz's back and pulls off the prospect's boots, tossing them into the shade at the back of the yard.

"Look at that," Pop says, grinning like a loon, "he's wearing his cut without his boots. Don't you have any respect, prospect? Kick his ass, boys!"

Jazz hops up and does the honors, kicking Buzz while he's down and laughing the whole time. As Buzz fights against Edward's hold, struggling to get to the coveted patches, they're _all_ laughing.

"Come on, pussy. What's the matter? You can't get up? You hear that boys? Buzz can't get it up," Edward mocks.

"If you really want it, you'll fight for it, prospect," Pop says. "You must not really want it."

Pop takes a few steps back, which only makes Buzz fight harder. With a new resolve, Buzz bucks and thrashes, finally throwing Edward off balance and sending him to the ground. My man cackles as Jazz and Mac each take over trying to restrain Buzz, but he's too determined to get to Pop.

With one final push, Buzz reaches out and snatches the patches from Pop's grasp, holding them up triumphantly. Everyone watching cheers, while the club members gather around Buzz to congratulate him with handshakes and back slaps.

When the chaos finally dies down, Edward makes his way back to me. "Was it a good show?" he asks, his eyes bright and his arms and face scratched from the scuffle on the ground.

"It was. I didn't know he was up to be patched in already."

Edward nods as he reaches past me for a fresh, cold beer, holding hit against his face. "He's been prospecting for over a year, so he's put in the time." He grins down at me. "And he's done his part to keep my girl safe. It's time he wears the colors. He's earned it."

I smile up at him. "Your girl."

He wraps an arm around me, and for once, I don't care who sees us. "My girl. My old—"

"Don't," I say, putting my hand over his mouth, lowering my voice. "I like the sound of being your girl, okay?"

He smiles against my fingers, kissing them. "Whatever you say, baby. As long as I get to call you mine."

* * *

**A/N: While every club may have their own "ceremony" for patching in members, this is how it's done in at least one RL club. ;) And believe me, seeing grown men wrestle for scraps of embroidered fabric is just as ridiculous and hilarious as it sounds. Lol.**

**There was also a reviewer a couple chapters back begging me not to have Edward call Bella his old lady. Well ... as much as it may sound demeaning and derogatory, it's a fact of life in an MC. I'm pretty sure I covered the fact that women aren't all that respected in many clubs, and they're viewed as property by many club members, hence the "property of" patches they're given to wear. Not to say they're all bad, but ... Edward will eventually be referring to Bella as his old lady. **

*****And don't forget the fundraiser I've mentioned the last couple of updates. I'll also be raffling off a One Shot to one of the attendees of my Zoom session on July 18 at 8pm EST. For your chance to chat with me and be entered in the One Shot raffle, see the Facebook group, Author's 411, for more details. A schedule listing the participating authors and times is posted in that group as well as my own. **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. And you can follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

**Songs: **

**Holding on to Heaven, Nickelback  
****Addicted, Saving Abel  
****Home, Phillip Phillips**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1.**

* * *

**Edward **

"Tell me how this is right," I say, my finger stabbing the paystub on the table between us. "How did you not know she was doing this? Don't you look at your own goddamn books?"

Pop picks up the slip of paper and studies it with narrowing eyes. "I had no idea," he says under his breath.

"I know Mase was a sore spot for her, but for her to pay him less than what the rest of us were making ... that's bullshit, Pop, and you know it."

"Maybe she—"

"Maybe she what? Made a clerical error? I have a box of stubs that go back almost as far as when he started at the shop. He _never_ made what the rest of us did. Never."

"Why would she do this?" he asks lowly. He looks up, and his confused eyes meet mine. "He never said anything to me. Why wouldn't he ever say anything to me?"

"Because he probably didn't fucking know his own father's wife was screwing him over. He should have been making thousands more a year. It's no wonder they struggled so much."

He places the paper on the table and brings his thumbs and forefinger to his face, rubbing his eyes. "Why didn't he just ask for help? We would have found out about this years ago if he had."

"You know why. He was pigheaded and stubborn, not to mention a proud son of a bitch. Thought he needed to prove he could get shit done on his own." I cross my arms and lean back in my chair. "We both know you and Mom never made him feel like he could come to you."

He looks up at me. "Did he ever come to you?"

"No. Stubborn and proud, remember? I imagine he didn't want to be seen as weak or incapable."

"And he always felt like he had something to prove," Pop says with a sigh. "I'll talk to your mother, but I have a feeling she's gonna have some way to explain it away."

I place a hand on the paystub and slide it closer to him. "Don't let her. She's gotten away with far too much shit over the years where your son was concerned. And this," I say, stabbing my finger on the paper once more, "_this_ took from your grandson, too. Sammy shouldn't have had to pay for your wife's grudge against a dead woman. A woman _you_ decided to sleep with and knock up. Mase paid for that mistake, too, just by being born."

His gaze bores into mine, and he's not nearly contrite enough in my opinion. "I'll deal with it," he bites out.

I stand, ready to be done with this conversation. "If you don't, I will." I turn to leave, but I'm stopped.

"Wait," Pop calls out. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about, too."

"What?" I ask, stepping back to the table. My hands wrap around the top of the chair.

"I'm pretty sure you already know what." He raises a brow.

"Spit it out. I need to get back to the shop."

It's his turn to cross his arms over his chest. "You and Bella seemed pretty cozy at the cookout on Saturday."

"And?"

"You two back together?"

"We are. Is that going to be a problem?"

He shakes his head once. "If Mase were still alive, we'd have an entirely different set of circumstances to contend with, but he's not, so we don't."

"That's an awfully long way to go around to say no."

"Look," he says, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward, placing his elbows on the table, "you two have a history, so I'm not surprised. I just don't want you getting wrapped up with her if it's going to bring trouble."

I bark out a laugh. "What kind of trouble can being with Bella possibly bring? And since when do you care who I spend my time with?"

"Since I know how your mother is going to react when she finds out."

"She already knows." I give him a sardonic grin.

"She does? Since when?"

"Since the day she got back from her trip."

"She hasn't said anything to me."

"Probably because she's still having an internal meltdown over it."

He chuckles and slowly shakes his head. "Probably." He sighs and looks up at me. "You're going to need to be careful, son."

"I know."

"It's not just you and Bella this time. And I know I'm not the best grandpa, but I still care about Sam. Seth too ... he's not completely unaffected by what you two are doing."

"I know, Pop."

"Just—" He breathes out a long exhale. "Just be careful. I want to see both of you happy, but you both have a lot of baggage. Kids, a baby mama, and a dead husband are one hell of a full cart."

"I realize that," I say with a nod. "But she's worth it, Pop."

"Then I hope you two can make it work."

"Thanks." I step back, ready to get back to work, but remind him of what he needs to do. "Don't forget to talk to Mom about that," I say, pointing at the paystub still laying on the table. "She needs to be held accountable for that shit. Masen deserved better. Bella and Sam deserved better. And they need to know what she did. Mom needs to apologize and make it right, too."

"I know. I'll take care of it."

* * *

The whir of the impact wrench is loud as I zip through tightening all the lugs on the tire in front of me. The faster I can get this job done, the faster I can get out of here.

I've got a hot date with my girl.

The fact that it's pizza and board games with our boys is irrelevant. Strangely enough, I'm almost as excited to spend time with the boys. But you better believe once I get Seth back to Angela tonight, I'm sneaking back in that trailer if it's the last thing I do. I haven't had Bella for more than a week, and I'm going out of my fucking mind.

"E!"

I look over my shoulder at Pop, standing just outside one of the bay doors. "Yeah?"

"You got shit under control here? I need to take off."

We make eye contact, and I realize he means he needs to go home to read his wife the riot act. "Yeah, I got it. See you Monday?"

"If we survive the weekend," he says with a grin.

I shake my head and smile, turning back to my work. After the last car is lowered or returned to the lot, those of us who are still around sweep up the shop and do what needs to be done to close the doors for the night. I switch off the lights and lock up, making sure the alarm is set.

I light a cigarette as I walk to my bike, anxious to get home and shower so I can pick up my boy and go see my other favorite people. As I wave goodnight to Jazz, my phone buzzes with a text.

_Sam wants to know if we can get two pizzas. He thinks he and Seth should have their own since they're "men." *insert eye roll* - B_

I chuckle as I type out my reply.

_Order whatever you guys want. I'll pick them up on my way over. - E _

_Thanks, Edward. See you soon. - B_

_See you soon, beautiful. - E_

I rush home, speed through my shower, and have Seth in the back of the Nova in record time. The pizzas are still piping hot when I pick them up, and Bella was right; Seth won't shut up about his and Sam's abilities to devour an entire pie on their own.

By the time I pull in behind Bella's car in her driveway, I'm antsy as fuck to see my girl. Seth climbs out of the back of the car and bolts for the door.

Sammy stands there with a wide smile on his face to welcome his cousin. "You're finally here!" he squeals, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

I chuckle as I grab the pizza boxes from the passenger seat. Seth is a few years older than Sam, and he's already started to grow out of the excitable stage. So, Sammy's enthusiasm reminds me how young he still is.

The boys disappear inside, running past Bella as she holds open the door for me. "Hey, handsome," she says softly, her twinkling eyes meeting mine. "Missed you."

"Missed you, too." I peek past her, seeing that the boys have disappeared into Sam's room.

I lean down and pucker my lips, and she looks over her shoulder and back to me before obliging my silent request. It's over far too quickly, but I'll take it.

"How was your day?" she asks, her hands tucked into her back pockets as she follows me into the kitchen.

I slide the pizzas onto the counter and turn around, leaning against the aging Formica. While I know I need to tell her about the talk I had with Pop, about what I figured out about Masen's wages for the last ten years, I'm not sure I'm willing to fuck up the rest of our evening over it. "Interesting," I finally say.

She raises a brow. "Oh?"

"Yeah, but we can talk about it later."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Bella. I'd just rather not spoil tonight."

"It's nothing bad?" she asks hesitantly as she steps toward me, biting her lip.

I open my arms, knowing she needs the reassurance. "It's nothing that will change anything, okay?"

She steps close enough that I can wrap her in a hug. She pulls her hands from her pockets and wraps her arms around me, burying her face in my chest as she nods. I close my eyes and kiss the top of her head, just breathing her in.

The low rumble of a stampede grows louder, and we break apart. We wear smiles on our faces as the boys stomp into the room, shouting about pizza and Doritos and asking what games we're going to be playing tonight.

I'm as surprised as anyone when the trouble twins turned garbage disposals are able to finish off their own pizza. They even manage to consume a bowl of ice cream each as the two of them kick our asses in a thrilling round of Candyland. But I redeem myself when I'm crowned king of Chutes and Ladders, much to Bella's amusement.

Bella helps Sam play against Seth and me in a game of Go Fish, but before a winner can be declared, the boys' eyes get heavy as the sugar high from too much soda wears off.

"I'm gonna get him tucked in," Bella says as she lifts an almost-asleep Sam from the floor.

"Yeah, and I gotta get him back to his mom's." I thumb over my shoulder toward my son as he stares bleary-eyed at the television.

"Do you ..." She hesitates and bites her lip as she stands there with her son in her arms, his head resting on her shoulder.

"Do I what?" I unfurl my legs and stand, stretching out my sore muscles from sitting on the goddamn floor for so long.

Her eyes flash to a distracted Seth and back to me. "Do you want to come back?" she whispers.

The corner of my mouth lifts into a smirk. "Are you suggesting a sleepover, Isabella?"

Her cheeks flame as she shakes her head and laughs. "Grow up, Edward."

"Hey," I say, reaching out and pulling her marginally closer to me. "Yeah. I'd love to come back ... if you want me to."

"I want," she whispers.

* * *

Angela is less than thrilled with the sugar-crashed state in which I return our son to her, but she hides it pretty well. She also reminds me of something I've tried very hard not to think about.

"Ben flies out Monday for that interview, Edward."

"Already?" I ask, my throat tightening. The thought of being separated from my son makes my soul ache, but I swallow it down, determined not to worry until there's something definite to worry about.

"Yeah. As soon as I know something, we can sit down and talk."

I nod my head but don't really acknowledge what she's saying. To do that would be to admit I might be losing out on a good part of Seth's life. I refuse to think she might want to alter our custody arrangement, but I have no idea what she's really thinking. I walk back to my car in a daze, suddenly anxious to hold Bella.

* * *

"Fuck," I grind out through gritted teeth. "Hold onto the top, baby. I don't want to smash your head against the fucking headboard."

Her grip on the bar of the headboard tightens, along with the muscles in her forearms, keeping me from fucking her right into the wall. Her legs are bent over my arms, giving me full access to her and leaving her completely at my mercy.

Whimpers resonate from her throat, and I'm not sure if they're entirely voluntary. I chuckle, breathless, as I plow into her, sweat dripping from my chest to hers. My mouth hovers over hers, our lips barely touching as we breathe in each other's breaths. "You like that?"

"Yeah," she says, her eyes closed and her back arching off the bed. "So fucking much." She gasps and moans. "There. Right fucking there."

I push into her again, angling my hips so I hit _just_ the right spot. "There?" At this point, she's practically bent in half, but the sounds she's making tell me she's as into it as I am.

"Oh!" Her breathing all but stops before she tilts her head back and lets out a moan that seems to come from her fucking toes. Her pussy clamps down on my cock as her entire body tenses up. The expression on her face, the way she's pulsating around my dick, the smell of her, it's all too much, and I come with a stifled groan against the skin of her neck.

Tremors rack my body, and it's all I can do to not collapse on top of her. Our skin is sticky with sweat, our limp limbs still tangled, but I couldn't give a fuck less that we both seem to be momentarily incapacitated.

Bella's sharp intake of breath sounds like she's coming back to life. I rise up enough to help her slowly lower her legs to the bed. "You okay?" I whisper as I lean in, kissing her temple. I pull back and watch her face.

She's practically glowing, even in the dim light coming from the bathroom. Her face is flushed, and she looks thoroughly fucked ... in the best way.

She hums as she opens her eyes. "Better than okay. I _so_ needed that."

I slowly pull out of her, and I'm already thinking about the next time I can have her. "And we _so_ need a shower. Come on," I say, climbing out of the bed and offering her my hand. "Let's make it quick so we can sleep."

Reluctantly, she follows me into the shower, and we make quick work of washing off. Once the last of the soap bubbles are washed away, we stand under the spray and just hold each other.

"I've missed you this week," she says against my chest. She looks up at me. "Are you staying the night?"

"Aren't you worried about Sammy finding me here in the morning?"

She smiles and shakes her head. "He has a tendency to sleep pretty late when he's suffering from a junk food coma. And I think tonight definitely qualifies as one of those nights. He just might sleep until noon."

"After what we just did, _I_ might sleep until noon." I reach behind us and turn off the water. "Come on. Let's go to bed."

"So, you're staying?" she asks as she dries off.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

* * *

In the early hours of the morning, naked flesh on naked flesh is too much of a temptation. Front to back, curled around her with her leg pulled over mine, I find my way back inside her. My lips graze her warm skin as my fingers tease her clit. It's slow and lazy and everything I want every morning for the rest of my life. We come quietly, both of us worried about waking the little boy down the hall.

"Shower with me?" I whisper against her neck, nipping the skin there.

"No," she mumbles against her pillow. "Let me sleep. I already have to change the sheets." She reaches out blindly for me. "Stay."

"You sleep. I'm going to go clean up in case Sam wakes up." I kiss her temple and roll away from her.

"Fine," she says petulantly. "Go wash your dick, but don't be upset when he's still sleeping in two hours and you're sitting there twiddling your thumbs."

I chuckle as I gather my discarded clothes and walk away. She's never been the most pleasant morning person, but I hoped getting her rocks off before the sun was fully up would help.

Apparently not.

Deciding the shower in her bathroom might disturb my girl's slumber, I head for the one on the other side of the trailer.

Sammy's bathroom is a little less organized than Bella's, but it's still clean. I have to collect a few bath toys before I start the water, and when I finally step inside the tub, I start to feel claustrophobic. The ceiling is too low with a shower head to match. It's about shoulder height, and I have to bend down just to get under the stream of water.

I make quick work of getting myself clean. It's not until I'm done that I realize I've used watermelon-scented, tear-free kids' shampoo, but as I run my fingers through my hair, I can appreciate its detangling properties.

Just as I wrap a towel around my waist, the bathroom door flies open and I'm met with my nephew's wide, questioning eyes.

"Uncle E? What are you doing here?" He pushes past me and lifts the seat of the toilet, dropping the pants of his Spider-Man pajamas to take a piss. "Did you sleep the night here? Did Seth?" he asks excitedly, not really paying attention to where he's peeing.

"Watch what you're doing, bud," I say, redirecting his attention to his task. I wait until he's washing his hands before I answer. "No, Seth's not here." I reach out to grab his arm before he can tear through the house to wake his mother and demand to see his cousin. "He went home last night when you went to bed."

"Oh." His shoulders sag and his smile falls.

"I'm sorry. But maybe we can get Seth and go do something with him later today. I just have to call his mom and see what they have planned, okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

I'm beginning to feel uncomfortable, standing here in just a towel, but before I can send him off, he looks up with a mischievous look on his face.

"What is it, Sammy?"

"Since you're already awake, you can make me pancakes!"

* * *

The batter sizzles as we pour it into the skillet.

"Make some Mickey Mouse ones!" Sam demands.

"Mickey Mouse ones? When have you had Mickey Mouse pancakes?"

"When we went to Disneyland, Uncle E," he says with as much exasperation as a six-year-old can muster.

"Hey, watch it, mister. There's no reason to get grouchy with me."

"Sorry," he says sheepishly.

"So, what exactly does a Mickey pancake look like?"

As he explains the finer details of how to arrange the three circles of batter in the skillet, Bella emerges from her bedroom. She's freshly showered, her hair still wet and her skin still pink from the heat of the water.

"I thought I smelled something yummy out here," she says as she approaches. She reaches Sam where he sits on the counter and hugs him, kissing his cheeks and making him giggle. "Are you helping Uncle E make pancakes, baby?"

"Uh huh," he says with a definitive head nod.

"They smell great," she says, pulling away. "Are you being a good helper, Sam?" She reaches into the fridge for the butter and syrup, pulling them out and putting them on the table. "Are you listening to your uncle?"

Again, Sam nods, and I grin as I watch him from the corner of my eye. "Yup. I'm being a good helper." He turns to look up at me. "Ain't I, Uncle E?"

My smile widens. "You sure are, buddy."

When the last of the batter is cooked and Mickey's misshapen head tops the pile, I take the plate holding our breakfast to the table. And as Bella and I sit there with our coffee and pancakes listening to Sam's excited ramblings, I have a vision of the three of us doing this every morning. Seth would be seated at the table, too, on the days he's with me.

And I want it. Bad.

"Where did you sleep, Uncle E?" Sam whips his head in his mother's direction. "Mommy, did he sleep on the couch?"

Bella chokes on her coffee and sets down her mug, wiping her mouth. "Um ..." The panic on her face is almost comical, but when she looks to me for help, I can't leave her hanging.

"Yeah, bud, I slept on the couch. I thought it would be nice to make breakfast for your mom. She needed a treat." I wink at Bella when Sam's stabbing another bite with his fork, and my girl's cheeks flame red.

Sam nods, his cheeks full of his decimated Mickey Mouse flapjack. "It was a good idea." He looks up at me and licks a drop of syrup off his lower lip. "You should sleep over _every_ night so we can have pancakes _every_ day!"

"Wouldn't that be something?" I look up and meet Bella's wide eyes. "Maybe—"

"Okay," she says, rising from the table and gathering my cleared plate and her own, walking toward the sink. "So, what are we doing today?"

"Can we go swimming at Pop and Nana's?" Sam asks, his head turning between me and his mom. "It's a good day to swim."

I watch as Bella's entire body kind of ... deflates. Her shoulders fall, and I can almost see her eyes close, even though she's turned away from me. I watch quietly as she inhales a deep breath and straightens her shoulders. "I'm not sure about that, Sammy," she finally says. "Pop and Nana might be busy today."

"Can you call them?" He looks at me. "Can you call them, Uncle E? Maybe call Seth and see if he can come, too?"

"We'll see, bud, okay?" I ruffle the already-messy hair on his head. "Let me talk to your mom about it."

"'Kay." He climbs out of his seat and takes his syrup-covered plate to Bella at the sink. "Here, Mommy."

"Thanks, baby." She smiles down at him and sends him off to wash his sticky hands. "Be sure you use soap this time," she shouts as he disappears down the hall.

I walk up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. "You okay?" I whisper.

She turns her head to looks at me, a small smile playing on her lips. "I am now."

"Do you want me to ask Pop about us coming over to swim?"

Her gaze moves to the hallway where Sam left to wash up. Her eyes find mine again. "I guess I should figure out how to play nice with your mother, huh?"

"No, she needs to learn to play nice with you, Bella." I turn her around in my arms, pulling hers around my neck. "You're back in my life, and not as my—" I shake my head, unwilling to say the words. "Point is, she needs to figure out her own shit. That's on her, not you. But if going over there makes you uncomfortable, we don't have to go. Doesn't this park have a pool?"

She sighs. "It does, but it hasn't been open for months. They've had filtration issues and then they wanted to resurface it. It's been one thing after another." She steps out of my arms and turns back to the dishes. "No, if Sam wants to swim, our only option is your parents' place."

"Then you better get your suit, baby." I pat her ass and kiss her lips. "We're going swimming."

* * *

**A/N: Are we still all coming for Esme? What do you think her reaction will be when she finds out her actions have been brought to light? And does anyone else want to give Sam a big, squishy hug? I kind of love him. I'd love to hear your thoughts. **

**To answer a reviewer here—since PM notifications aren't going out—no, Mr Sunshine isn't in an MC. Buuuut, the hubby of one of my prereaders is, so I have some insider information. ;) **

*****The fundraiser I've mentioned the last few weeks is still ongoing and still adding some big names in fic to the list of participating authors. And the organizers have made it even easier to get the chance to talk to all of your favorites. For a donation of $50 or more, you will be granted an all-access pass to every Zoom call you want to join. Isn't that awesome?! But don't worry, you can still donate as little as $5 and join a call of your choosing. Every dollar counts, so even if you can only give a little, it will be so very much appreciated. **

**My session is this Saturday, July 18 at 8pm EST. I'll also be raffling off a One Shot or futuretake to one of the attendees! For your chance to chat with me and be entered in the One Shot raffle, see the Facebook group, Author's 411, for more details. A schedule listing the participating authors and times is posted in that group as well as my own. **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. And you can follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

**Songs:**

**If You Could Only See, Tonic  
****Eye of the Storm, Godsmack  
****Attrition, Soundgarden**

* * *

***Link to playlist in chapter one.**

***Fiddling was had and tweaks were made. All mistakes are mine. **

* * *

**Edward**

"_Yeah, that's fine_." Angela sounds tired, even though it's close to eleven in the morning. _"What time do you think you'll have him back?"_

"Depends on when Mom and Pop get back home." I flip my lighter through my fingers, end over end on the table, fidgeting while Bella gets their swim stuff together.

"_Meaning?_"

"Meaning they're gone for the day, and when they get back, I'd rather not be there."

She sighs. "_Is she giving you grief about being back with Bella? I swear, that woman needs to get over herself. Can't she see that you're actually happy for once? Why would she be against it? I just don't understand_."

I smile at her perceptiveness. "Your guess is as good as mine." A noise coming from down the hallway reminds me I have one more thing to take care of before we can leave, so I wrap it up. "Look, I'll be there in an hour or so to get Seth."

"_He'll be ready_."

"Thanks. See you in a little while."

I end the call and place my phone down on the table, thrumming my fingers against it. Hesitating. I'm reluctant to do what I need to do, but I know if I don't, I'll miss the opportunity. Seeing Sam camped out in front of the television and completely distracted, I know now is the time to have this conversation.

Reluctantly, I get up and make my way toward Bella's room. Leaning against the doorframe, I watch as she folds towels, stuffing them in a giant duffel. There are pool toys, sunscreen, and her suit spread out on the bed. Softly humming a tune to herself, she's lost in her own head, and I know what I'm about to tell her will spoil her good mood.

"Hey," she says softly, looking up at me. "Was Angela okay with Seth coming with us?"

"She was. I told her we'd be there in about an hour."

"An hour? Why on earth would it take us an hour to pick him up? I'll have us ready in another ten minutes, tops."

I step towards her and reach for her hand, stilling her movements. "Because we need to talk about something before we go." I try to convey some calm as I look down at her, but I know I'm failing miserably when her eyes narrow.

She pulls her hand from mine. "What's wrong?"

I sit on the bed and pat the spot beside me. "This might take a minute."

"You're not making me feel any better," she says as she reluctantly lowers herself to sit.

"Shit," I mutter. I exhale quickly and rub my hands over my face. "Okay, let me start with the easy stuff. I called Pop, and they're out for the day. So unless they come home early, you probably won't have to see them."

"Okay," she says, drawing out the word. "What do you have to tell me that would make me feel better about not seeing them?"

"It might help us avoid a poolside homicide." I crack a grin at my poetic phrasing.

"You're really not that funny," she says, a single brow raised.

"No, you're right," I say with a sigh. "That was pretty bad."

Her shoulders slump, and I know she's losing patience with me. "Can you just spit it out? You're killing me here."

I reach for her hands and pull her closer until she's practically in my lap. As pissed as I am with my mother, I'm more worried about how Bella's going to react. I know she's going to be angry. Hell, _I'm_ angry. But maybe my touch will soothe her the same way having her close helps calm me. I wrap an arm around her and kiss the top of her head. "Before I tell you what I found out, I want you to know I've already set things in motion to take care of it, okay?"

She doesn't respond out loud, only nodding her head.

"Remember that box of paperwork we found in storage?"

"Yeah. And you seemed really upset about something you found." She looks up then, her troubled eyes meeting my own. "Is that what this is about?"

"It is." I take a deep breath and blow it out, readying myself for the fallout. "I figured out Masen wasn't being paid what he should have been."

Her brow furrows and she scrunches her nose. "So, you're all in a tizzy because Mase missed out on a raise?"

"Not a raise. Masen wasn't being paid what he should have been ... for years."

"I don't understand. Why would I be upset about that? I always knew he was low man on the totem pole. I figured he wasn't making as much as some of the guys."

I heave a frustrated sigh. "No, Bella. Masen was hired in a year after me. He should have been making what I was, what everyone was who's worked there for almost ten years. He was being paid _thousands_ less a year than the rest of us."

"Thousands?"

"Yeah."

She pulls away and stands, going back to putting her shit in her bag, only this time she's shoving it in. "And let me guess. Esme is responsible?"

"As far as we can tell. When I went to Pop with it, he said he had no clue."

She jerks her head in a nod. "I see."

I don't dare touch her. I've seen her like this a time or two in the past, and I know it's best to leave her alone while she works it out in her head. She buzzes around the room. She snatches her suit off the bed and disappears into the bathroom. I watch through the open door as she changes into her bikini, putting her clothes back on over it. She pulls a brush through her hair so hard I'm afraid she's gonna yank it out at the roots.

When her hair is sufficiently tamed, she twists it up into a knot on top of her head and walks back into the bedroom. "You ready to go?"

"Um, yeah," I say cautiously. "You gonna be okay?"

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

I rise from the bed and pull her closer, my hands resting on her hips. "I'm worried that you haven't really ... reacted yet."

She looks up then, her eyes blazing. "I'm actually trying to control my reaction. If I reacted the way I'm feeling ..."

"Which is what?"

"I can't remember the last time I was so angry, Edward. I want to—" She screams out in frustration and pulls away from me. "I know she's your mother and you love her, but I'm not sure I can ever be in the same room with that woman and have a civil conversation."

"After this and every other stunt she's pulled, I don't expect you to."

"Good," she says as she begins to pace. "I want to ... to ..." Another frustrated growl comes out of her. "I want to cry, you know? It's so fucking unfair that she's had so much control over my life when I never did anything to her to deserve it. Never. For reasons I will never understand she made it her goal in life to make Masen and me miserable. First it was the way she treated your brother. Even when Mase was a _child _your mother treated him like shit. I could never understand how she could treat an innocent little boy that way. And then she made it hard for me to stay close to Ali after you and I broke up, which worked in its own way. She and I were never as close after that. She also made it nearly impossible for your dad to get close to Sam, which made shit tough for me, you know? I was doing my best back then to keep the peace, and she was hellbent on making it difficult for all of us."

"I know, baby. She's had you in her sights for years, and I've never understood it either."

She continues pacing and pretty much ignores what I've said. "She's a bitch and a horrible excuse for a human being. I can't understand how—" She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, her voice dropping to not much more than a whisper. "I can't understand how she thinks she could do shit like that to someone who only wanted to belong."

"You feel better?" I ask cautiously, wrapping my arms around her.

Her eyes open and she looks up at me, a sad smile on her face. "Not really." She nuzzles her head into my chest and takes several breaths before speaking. "You're sure she won't be there today?"

"Pop said they were going for a long ride, just the two of them. He said they were making a day of it, so they probably wouldn't be back until dark."

She nods against my chest. "Good. I want to take the boys swimming, but I don't think I could face her right now. I'm too pissed. It would probably come out as angry tears." She looks up then. "And crying in front of your mother is the last thing I want to do. I can't let her think she has that much power over me."

I smile and peck her lips. "She doesn't have _any_ power over you, babe."

Again, she nods but doesn't otherwise respond to my statement. Instead, she changes the subject. "Think Seth will be ready early if we go now?"

"He should be. Come on." I grasp her hand and tug her toward the door. "Let's go spend the day with our boys."

* * *

"We might grab dinner before I bring him back," I say as I stand on Angela's doorstep, watching Seth climb into Bella's SUV. I turn back to my son's mother. "Is that okay?"

"It's fine." She leans against the door and closes her eyes. A sigh escapes her. "I'm not feeling too great anyway. I could use a break."

I take in her appearance—her paler than usual skin that seems to have a green hue to it, her obvious exhaustion—I know something is wrong. "You're not sick, are you?" My instincts kick in and I take a half step back, afraid I might catch whatever bug she might have.

A small smile plays on her lips. "No, I'm not sick. Well, it's nothing you'd ever catch." Her eyes flutter open, and even though she obviously feels like roadkill, I see contented happiness. And it all clicks.

"No shit? You're pregnant?"

She laughs softly and nods. "We just found out," she says quietly.

"When?"

"Right after we got back from Cali, so we're not out of the first trimester yet. And Seth doesn't know, so can you keep it to yourself for now?"

"Yeah, of course," I say with a nod. A strange feeling bubbles up in my gut. The last time she told me she was pregnant, there was no _we_, no soft smiles and friendly banter. No, last time was definitely different. "Congratulations. Tell Ben I said ... uh ... yeah."

"I will," she says with a laugh. "Have fun with the boys today. Seth was really looking forward to spending time with Sam again."

"They're kind of inseparable."

Her smile falls just a little. "Yeah, they are." She opens her mouth to say more, but Seth hanging out of the rear window of the car calling for us to "_get a move on_" drags me away.

"I'll call you about getting him back."

Angela nods and waves at our son before closing the door. I hightail it back to Bella's car.

"Sorry," I say as I climb in behind the wheel. "She was feeling chatty today."

"'S okay," Bella mumbles, staring out the window.

"Are you? Okay, I mean."

She turns to me, smiling, but I know it's forced. "I'm fine."

I reach across the console and squeeze her hand. I turn around and look at the boys. "You two all buckled in?"

With two "_yes, sirs_," I back out of the driveway and head toward my parents' place.

As promised, they're gone, which is a relief. Pop said they would be, but I wasn't sure Mom would _stay_ gone if she knew we were coming over. Bella is quiet as we head out back, sitting in one of the chaise lounges while she helps the boys get ready.

With sunscreen sprayed and pool floats inflated, the boys and I get in the water. It's more than a little distracting when Bella shimmies out of her shorts and tank top, leaving her in her swimsuit. I've seen her in a bikini probably a dozen times over the years, but this time, my gaze lingers, especially since the memory of what lies beneath it is fresh in my mind.

When she pulls a book from her bag and settles back onto the chaise instead of coming into the water, I'm disappointed. "You're not swimming?"

She looks up from her book and shakes her head. "I'm not feeling it today."

With shouts of "_catch me_" and "_watch this_," my attention is needed elsewhere, so I focus on the boys. I play catch and release as Sammy jumps from the edge into my arms over and over, and Seth is constantly asking me to count how many seconds he can stay under the water. It goes on for what feels like hours. They've got far too much fucking energy, and it doesn't take long for them to wear me out.

"Okay, you two, how about we take a break?"

With grumbling and complaints, they climb up the stairs and into the open towels Bella holds out for them. But when she mentions an early lunch, they're a little more cooperative. We snatch up Bella's bag so its contents don't bake in the afternoon sun, as well as t-shirts and Bella's shorts to ward off the biting chill of the AC in the house, and head inside. I get the boys settled in front of the TV with a movie while Bella heats up a batch of chicken nuggets and fries in the air fryer.

Lying on their stomachs on the family room floor with their feet in the air, they're happy little fuckers as they chow down. It also gives me a reprieve from keeping an eagle eye on them. I find Bella back in the kitchen making sandwiches with the rest of the food we've brought.

"You're being quiet today." I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her back to my front and kissing her neck.

She turns her head and looks up at me. "Kind of in a funk."

I turn her around and bring her arms up and over my shoulders, giving her a quick kiss. "I'm sorry I had to shit on today."

She shakes her head. "Don't apologize. You didn't have much of a choice. I understand why you told me when you did. I'd have been even more upset if you hadn't told me and they showed up." She sighs and her gaze travels around the room before coming back to mine. "This place hasn't been all that welcoming to me the last ten years, but now it's even less so." She shrugs her shoulders. "Guess I don't feel comfortable here anymore."

"I'm sorry," I repeat. My hands settle low on her hips, my fingertips tracing along the top edge of her suit bottoms, and a slow smile spreads across my face. "Maybe it's time I look into getting a pool at my place. Then I could see you in this getup all the time."

I get the reaction I was hoping for, and she laughs softly, her rarely seen blush pinkening her cheeks. I lean forward and capture her lips with mine, and just as I begin to deepen it, the door leading to the garage opens. Startled, Bella pulls away and gets behind me, shielding herself from whoever the fuck is intruding on us.

"Edward!" Mom says as she walks through the door, shock written all over her face. "I didn't know you were here. I didn't recognize the car in the driveway." Her eyes flit to Bella and back to me. "Did you get a new car?"

My joined hands drop to cover my rapidly deflating semi, and I clear my throat. "It's Bella's."

"Oh?" Mom questions. "I didn't realize you were able to afford a new car, Bella." She looks at me and back to my girl, and her expression changes before my fucking eyes. I know something spiteful is about to come out of her mouth. "Unless you're doing more than keeping the books for Rose over at McCarty's."

Bella tenses behind me. The grip she has on my arm tightens as she moves to step around me, but I hold her back.

"It's a used SUV, and you know it. Don't act like it's a brand-new car." I lower my voice so the boys can't overhear me. "You just couldn't pass up the chance to take a fucking shot at her, could you?"

Ignoring my mother's shocked expression, I turn around to face Bella and hold her cheeks in my hands. "I want you to take the boys home."

"They won't want to leave," she says under her breath, her eyes trained on my mother.

"Then take them for ice cream or something. I really don't give a fuck what you have to bribe them with, but I need you to get them out of here." I nudge her chin so she looks at me. "I don't want them to hear what I'm about to say to her."

It's like watching a switch flip, seeing the anger build in her eyes. She's so pissed, her teeth grind together when she speaks, her words coming out in a growl. "I need to tell her—"

"No, you don't," I say quietly but with conviction. "I need to handle this, Bella. It's time I stood up _to_ her and _for_ you."

Bella nods and takes a half step toward the patio door, but I grab her arm, stopping her in her tracks. "Leave it. I'll get their toys and shit later." I reach across the kitchen counter and snag the keys from where I tossed them when we got here. I place them in her palm and kiss her forehead. "Just get them and go."

With no more than a nod, she grabs her bag and leaves the kitchen, heading into the family room. Her voice echoes down the hallway, and it's full of forced enthusiasm as she lures the boys with the promise of ice cream. My eyes never leave my mother, even as I hear Bella and the boys heading for the front door. When I finally hear it latch closed, the door leading to the garage opens.

My father steps inside, stopping a foot inside the door when he sees the standoff Mom and I are locked in. "Shit," he murmurs, closing the door behind him.

"I didn't expect to see you two today. You forget something, or did you want to come join in the fun?"

"What are you talking about?" Mom asks, looking between Pop and me. "Carl? Edward? What's going on?"

"We got about 50 miles out and I got a call from Tank," Pop replies, ignoring my mother. "There's something I need to handle down at the clubhouse. It slipped my mind to call you." He looks between his wife and me. "But I think it can wait for a bit."

"What? Was I not supposed to be here when my own son and grandson were in my house?" When we both ignore her, she loses her patience. Clearly frustrated with us, she shouts, "Can one of you tell me what the hell is going on?"

"You tell me," I say, leaning against the counter and crossing my arms.

"What are you talking about, Edward?" She breezes past me, tossing her jacket over a barstool as she walks toward the fridge. She pulls out a bottle of water and turns to face me. "Well? What's with all the suspense?"

I grind my teeth together, trying to keep a leash on the anger I'm feeling for the woman standing in front of me. "Mind telling me why you felt the need to attack Bella like that? Basically accusing her of fucking for money?"

She shrugs a shoulder as she sips from her bottle of water. She replaces the cap and places it on the counter, crossing her arms defensively. "She's a big girl. I'm sure she can take it."

"She shouldn't have to!" I drop my flexing hands to my sides. "There was no goddamn reason to say that shit to her. You can spot makes and models from a mile away, so you know damn well that car is almost ten years old. You said that shit just to hurt her."

"I'm sorry, all right? I couldn't help myself."

"Just like you couldn't help yourself when you wrote Masen's paychecks?"

The silence that follows is deafening. It's so quiet I can hear the hum of the refrigerator. Mom just stands there, staring me down, and the longer we're locked in a standoff, the longer she stays silent, the more my anger and frustration builds.

"You know, as shitty as it is, the money isn't even half of it. You've been gunning for Bella for years. What's your fucking problem with her, huh? Not only did you insinuate she's working in front of the cameras down at McCarty's, but you offered her money to leave town, too? What the fuck is wrong with you, Mom?"

"Nothing is wrong with me," she snaps, practically throwing down her water bottle. She grits her teeth and gets in my face. "I'm just trying to protect my son from getting hurt again. That bitch should've—"

"Esme!" Pop barks.

I whip my head around and look at Pop then back to Mom as she takes a step back. My gaze bounces between them before settling on her. "Should've what?"

She pushes her hair behind her ear and stands a bit straighter, clearing her throat before continuing. "Bella's been bad news for this family for a long time. I saw an opportunity to get her out of our lives, and I took it."

"But _why_? What the hell did she ever do to you?" My frustration with her swells inside me to the point where my chest physically aches.

Her eyes flash to her husband where he stands behind me, and they stay there.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" I growl.

"Watch it, Edward," Pop demands. "That's your mother you're talking to. Show her some respect."

"Respect," I spit, wheeling around to face my father. "I'll show her some respect when she's earned it." I ignore her gasp, still facing Pop. "Did you even confront her about the money?"

His eyes flit to her and back to me. "We talked."

I laugh, but I'm not at all amused with the situation. "You talked? Well, that's just ... super." I turn to my mother. "And what did you have to say to defend yourself?" My voice rises with every word. "How did you explain away the fact that you basically stole from my brother for ten goddamn years?"

"That's enough, Edward!" Pop shouts over me. "Don't speak to your mother like that, no matter what she's done. She's already agreed to pay back the money."

Ignoring him, I take a step toward Mom, my fists still clenched at my sides. "You're going to pay back every fucking dollar you kept from them. Do you understand me?"

"I've already agreed to—"

"Every goddamn dollar, Mom." I shove a finger in her face, my eyes narrowing. "And you're gonna apologize to Bella. And when she tells you to piss off, you're gonna grovel at her feet. You've done nothing but make her life difficult for the last ten years, and it's about time you start making up for all the shit you've put her through." I drop my hand and take a step toward the patio doors.

"Wait! We should—"

I turn around when I reach the door, ignoring her desperate plea. "Otherwise, we're done. You got me? Bella and the boys are all that matter right now. You keep this shit up, and you're gonna lose me and Seth." I take a breath. "I'd threaten that you're gonna lose Sam, too, but I doubt you'd give a fuck about him."

I turn to my father then. "Same goes for you."

Pop holds up his hands. "Hey, I never—"

"I know. And that's the problem. You never looked out for your other son. You never made sure your wife was doing the right thing where he was concerned."

"Look, I did my best for our family." He looks at Mom and back to me. "I couldn't change what I didn't know about. If I had, I would've—"

"Don't even start with that shit, Pop. You never did your best where Mase was concerned. And if you'd opened your goddamn eyes, you would've seen what your wife had been doing to him his entire life. And the saddest part of all this is that my brother died trying to prove himself to people who didn't really give a shit."

I shove the patio door open and step out into the sun, closing it with as much force as I can. I find my discarded cell under a towel and send Bella a text, asking her to come get my sorry ass. And as I gather up the boys' things, I wonder if this is the last time I'll do this here.

Bella was right about one thing; this house isn't as welcoming as it used to be.

* * *

**A/N: Was that what you expected? Do you think Esme will play nice now that Edward threatened to keep Seth away from her? Do you think Edward will follow through with it if she doesn't? Was he hard enough on her? I know more than a few of you are out for blood. ;) I'd love to hear your thoughts. **

**I keep forgetting to mention that I've started a new "story" for outtakes from Clutch and Shift. You'll find it on my FFN profile. So, if you want to know what Buzz was thinking the night Bella shot the guy in her trailer or what, if anything, Edward overheard when Bella met Seth, check it out!**

**I've got a nasty eye ... **_**issue**_** going on right now, and I may not be able to update Shift on Friday for the simple reason that I'm having an incredibly hard time looking at a screen. That doesn't bode well for working on edits. But I'll update if I can. Thanks so much for being understanding. Xoxo**

**A giant thank you to the ladies who joined me Saturday evening to chat! It was such a great time, and I loved answering your questions. For those of you wondering, xXTailoredDreamsXx won the one shot giveaway, and I'm anxiously waiting to see the prompt she gives me. I'll keep you all posted. **

*****The fundraiser for Carey is ongoing with authors scheduled through October, with more being added all the time, so please check it out if you haven't yet. See the Facebook group, Author's 411, for more details. A schedule listing the participating authors and times is posted in that group as well as my own. **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. And you can follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

**Gale Song, The Lumineers  
****Love Me Or Leave Me, Three Days Grace  
****A Little Bit Off, Five Finger Death Punch  
****The Abyss, Three Days Grace  
****Hurt, Johnny Cash**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter one.**

* * *

***As always, fiddling was had. All mistakes are mine. **

****Posting schedule update in A/N below. **

* * *

**Edward**

"Dad! Did it come?" Seth asks as he pushes past his mom at the door. He barely gives her a glance as he rushes outside. "Are we doing it today?"

I grin down at him. "It did, and we are."

"Yes," he hisses.

He tries to bolt past me, but I grab his arm. "Hey, say goodbye to your mother."

In a move that almost constitutes a hug, he squeezes Angela. "Bye, Mom," he says in a rush before running toward the Nova.

"Have fun," she shouts. She turns to me. "He's a little excited, huh?"

"I guess so. If I'd have known how much, I probably would have bought one ages ago. And who knows? Maybe if it's a hit, I'll look into getting something more permanent."

Her usual smile falls. "Do you think you could stick around when you drop him off tomorrow?" She pauses, and I already know what's about to come out of her mouth. "We need to sit down and talk."

I nod, swallowing hard. "Yeah." My voice is thick. "I don't have anything planned tomorrow except for church in the evening."

With a heavy heart and heavier steps, I walk toward the car. Seth's smiling face hangs out the window, and in an instant, the weight on my shoulders simultaneously lifts and grows. No matter what Angela and Ben might have to tell me tomorrow, I'll deal with it. Even if they're moving—taking my son and moving away—I'll figure out a way to make it work.

I have to.

I slide in behind the wheel and start the engine. "You ready for this?"

"Yes! I've _been_ ready, Dad. It took _forever _for it to get here."

I meet his eyes in the rearview. "I ordered it two days ago, kid."

"Like I said, _forever_."

Shaking my head, I shift into first and pull away from the curb. Seth chatters behind me, and the more he talks, the more my mind drifts toward the possibility of not having days like this. Days I can just pick him up from his mom's to spend the day together.

Seth's excited to set up the Easy Set pool I ordered from Amazon. The days are only getting warmer, and it'll be nice to have a way to cool off. And after the disastrous face-to-face at Mom and Pop's place last week, I knew I needed to do something for the kids. Because we won't be going over there any time soon.

"Is Sam coming over to help, too?" he asks as we pull into the driveway, unbuckling his seatbelt before I even cut the engine.

"He should be here soon."

Once I unlock the house, Seth zips past me as I disarm the alarm. He disappears through the patio door in search of our project. I toss my keys on the counter in the kitchen and check my buzzing phone.

_On our way now. Be there soon. - B_

I slide my phone back in my pocket and head outside to supervise Seth before he can mangle the instructions or the vinyl of the pool. I'm as calm as I can be under the circumstances, but trying to assemble a swimming pool with a nine year old isn't exactly smooth sailing. We get as far as spreading out the tarp out on my tiny patch of grass before Seth complains about being thirsty.

I stand up from pulling the corner of the tarp into place and brush off my knees. "Come on. Let's go make a pitcher of lemonade." I wrap an arm around the back of his neck and pull him to my side. "It's gonna be a hot one, so we're gonna need it."

I've got the plastic can of frozen concentrate in the microwave and Seth is filling the pitcher with ice when the doorbell rings.

"Come in!" I shout, hopeful Bella can hear me.

The front door opens, and Sam comes barreling into the kitchen. "Did you get it? Did you get it?" he asks, bouncing around with eager eyes.

"Sam!" Seth shouts when he sees them. "Aunt Bella! Did Dad tell you the pool got delivered today?"

"He did," she says with a smile, ruffling his hair. She walks past him and toward me, gently hip checking me as she passes. "Hey, you."

"Hey," I reply, only briefly looking her way. I'm distracted, and even though I know why, I can't snap out of my mood.

"You okay?" she asks quietly.

I force a smile and shrug a shoulder. "I will be."

She studies me for a moment but doesn't press for more, for which I'm grateful. Instead, she shoos us all out the door, promising to make the lemonade and find something to make for an early dinner.

We hook up the pump and get the hose ready to fill the shapeless mass on the ground, but Bella still hasn't made an appearance.

"You two leave this alone until I get back out here. Got it?" I make eye contact with both of them.

"Got it, Dad," Seth assures me.

"Got it, Uncle E," Sam parrots.

When I step into the house, Bella's sitting at the table with a pile of mail in front of her. The pitcher is on the counter, abandoned and dripping with condensation.

"Hey. You get lost bringing out the lemonade?"

"Oh!" Her head snaps up, and her eyes meet mine. "Sorry. I wanted to make sure it was cold enough, but I guess I got distracted."

"What's all this?" I ask, stepping up beside her.

"I grabbed the mail before we headed over." She holds an envelope in her hand, and the shop's logo on it catches my eye.

"What did Mom and Pop send you?"

She's quiet for a moment, hesitating, before opening the flap and pulling the paper from inside. "Esme sent me a check." She shows me the check from Esme's personal account.

For twenty thousand dollars.

"Well ... shit."

"Yeah."

"Was there a letter or anything in there with it?"

"Not a thing. Just the check." She looks up at me. "If your math was right this is only—"

"A fraction of what she owes you, I know." I hold onto the top of the chair beside her, my hands flexing as I resist the urge to go find my mother and wring her neck. "Has she tried to contact you before this? Call you? Stop by? Anything?"

She shakes her head. "No. Nothing. Not even a phone call to apologize."

I lean over and kiss the top of her head. "I'm sorry," I mumble against her hair.

She shrugs. "I wasn't expecting _anything_ from her, really. As far as I'm concerned, she's said everything in this one gesture. She's more than made her point with this." She looks up at me then. "I'll just be thankful for small miracles and stash this away for now. Maybe make some big plans for the future."

"The future, huh?" I ask, nuzzling her neck. "What kind of future?"

"The kind that includes you and those two little boys out there." She pushes back and stands from the chair, oblivious to the knot in my stomach at her mention of a future with both our boys. "Come on." She walks over to the counter and swipes the pitcher and stack of plastic cups. "Those kids are probably melting by now."

It takes a little longer than the directions say it should, but we manage to get the pool where it needs to be so we can finally turn on the water. I spot Bella keeping watch from the kitchen window, and it feels so ... domestic to have the four of us here, doing something so normal. It's a glimpse of a life I never thought I'd have.

But as I watch Seth and Sam work together to smooth out the wrinkles on the bottom of the pool with their bare feet, I'm reminded that this could all be taken away from me. This life might still be out of reach.

I redirect the kids more than once, and I have to catch myself before I snap at them. But we finally get to the point where we can turn on the hose full blast and leave it. And it's perfect timing, because just then, Bella steps out onto the patio, and the smell of dinner wafts out of the house.

Sam takes off toward his mother. "Mommy, come see! Uncle E turned on the water!" He grabs Bella's hand and pulls her away from the door. "We're gonna swim when it fills all the way up!"

"You know it's going to take a while to fill up, right, Sam?" she asks him as she gets closer to Seth and me.

Sam rolls his eyes. "That's what Uncle E said." He leads her over to where Seth and I are manning the hose.

"It's looking good, guys. You did a great job." She's overly enthusiastic, making a big deal about praising their efforts. The beaming smiles on the boys' faces are enough to make me smile, too. "Now, how about we get some dinner while it fills? I've got everything ready for tacos."

At the mention of food, the boys take off.

"Slow down!" I bark as the kids run inside. Once the patio door closes, I huff a breath.

"You okay?" she asks, rubbing a hand over my back.

"Not really." I meet her eyes, and I can tell she senses something is wrong.

"What's wrong?"

"I talked to Angela when I picked him up this afternoon. She wants to talk when I drop him off tomorrow."

"Oh," she says, her hand stilling. "Did she say what she wants to talk about?"

I rub a hand over my face and groan before looking down at her. "Can we talk about it later?"

"Sure. Whatever you need."

I peck her on the lips. "Thanks. I'd just rather not get into it right now."

Once I'm satisfied the hose isn't going anywhere, we head inside to supervise the boys. Seth is already helping Sam load his taco shell, and the sight of the two of them side by side makes my heart clench.

I'm not even a hundred percent sure of what Angela has to tell me, but I'm already dreading the worst.

We all sit around the table to eat, and the boys go on and on about what they're going to do when the pool finally fills. Bella reminds them it probably won't be full until after the sun has gone down, but they're not discouraged in the least.

"We can swim after breakfast," Seth says with a shrug.

"That water is gonna be a little cold, Seth," I remind him. "It might be better to wait until the sun has a chance to warm it up a little."

Sam stares up at me with a puzzled look, and Bella giggles.

"What is it, Sammy?" she asks.

Sam blinks and turns to his mom. "Are we sleeping the night? 'Cause I want to swim after breakfast, too."

She glances over at me, and all I offer her is a smirk, but my gaze doesn't linger. I turn to Sam. "Yeah, buddy, you and your mom can both stay tonight."

"Yes!" both boys squeal in unison, already making plans for a movie marathon in Seth's room.

When everyone is done eating, Bella stands and collects our plates, taking them to the kitchen. I go back outside when the boys insist on seeing the pool's progress. Once they're satisfied that the water is still flowing and the pool is actually filling, we head back in the house.

We send the boys off to shower while Bella and I clean up the kitchen. Once we're done, the boys settle in Seth's room to watch a movie, but I'm not sure they make it thirty minutes before they're sound asleep and we're tucking them into bed.

While Bella helps pick up the remnants of the packaging that's left in the yard, I check the water level in the pool.

"They're so excited to swim tomorrow," she says, walking up beside me and wrapping an arm around my waist.

"They are." I kiss the side of her head. "I've missed you."

She smiles up at me. "You just saw me a couple of days ago."

I shrug. "I know. But ..."

"But what?"

When I don't answer her right away, she squeezes me tighter. "Hey," she prompts, "what's up with you? You've been acting weird all day. Does this have to do with your mom? Because I don't—"

"It's not about Mom, even though I'd like to ..." I shake my head, putting off my thoughts about my mother for another day. "No, it's about what Angela said to me earlier." I'm not quite ready to say it out loud, so I hesitate.

"What is it?" she finally asks.

I bury my nose in her hair as I speak. "I think they might be moving."

"Moving?" She pulls away just enough to look up at me. "Moving where?"

"I'm not sure, but Ben flew out for an interview this past week. And she mentioned it being a possibility back when they were in Cali."

"And you're just now telling me about it?" She doesn't sound angry, just ... hurt. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I shrug a shoulder and pull her back into my arms, tucking her under my chin. "I was trying not to think about it."

"What does that mean for Seth?"

I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. "I have no idea."

I spend the night wrapped around Bella. She does her best to distract me from what I might be facing tomorrow, offering me solace in her body. We fall asleep sometime after midnight, but we're up before the boys. With everything else going on right now, I'm not ready to answer questions about why Seth's Aunt Bella is sleeping in his old man's bed.

Breakfast is hardly cleared away when the boys start asking about getting in the pool. I put them off as long as I can, but their persistence finally makes me cave.

We spend hours outside, only going in to eat lunch and when Bella insists on more fucking sunscreen. But I have to admit, having her rub that shit on my back and shoulders is a bonus. Getting to see her in a bikini is another.

But our fun comes to an end when Angela calls, asking for me to bring Seth home.

"They're still swimming," I tell her, turning away from the kids splashing in the water.

"_I know, but it's getting late, and you said you had to go to church tonight, right?_"

I sigh and rub my eyes. "Yeah. I have to be there by eight."

"_Well, it's already four. By the time you get him home and after we sit down to talk, it'll be dinnertime, then it'll be—_"

"Yeah, I get it." I look over at the kids and meet Bella's gaze. "I'll be there as soon as I can get the boys out of the water."

On the drive to Angela's house, I feel like a dead man walking. Seth's oblivious in the backseat, but the closer we get to Ben and Angela's, the tighter my stomach knots.

Angela seems uneasy, too. Her stilted greeting when I walk in and the way she hurriedly sends Seth off to go help Ben with something tell me she's as nervous about this conversation as I am. And when she leads me into their living room and offers me a drink, it feels like a forced pleasantry.

"Thanks, but I'd rather we get this over with," I say, sitting in an armchair, crossing my arms over my chest.

She sits in another chair across from me and slaps her hands down on her thighs. "Okay then. Let's just get to it." She looks up at me, and her expression morphs before my eyes. What I see makes my heart seize.

Regret.

"Ben was offered the job, and if he takes it, he can start as early as next month."

"Where?" I croak out.

"Washington state. The Seattle area."

My head bobs in a nod and I swallow hard. "Do I even get a say about this?"

"Of course you get a say, Edward. You're his father. That's why I'm talking to you about it. We've always handled things together—made decisions about Seth together—and something this big shouldn't be only my decision. But it's not just _us_ this one affects."

"If you"—I clear my suddenly thick throat—"If Ben accepts their offer, when would—"

"It would either be right away, before school starts next month or near the end of the first semester. Ben wants us with him right away, but I think it would be rushing things. I'd have the house to pack up, and I'll have to look for a job up there. But more than likely it would be late December. I want to be settled before the baby comes."

I'm silent, taking it all in. The entire time she's talking, though, I'm fucking dying inside.

"I know this is sudden," she's quick to say, "but it's too good an opportunity to pass up. Ben wasn't looking for it, but when they contacted him, it felt like the right move."

"Can I ... Can Seth stay with me?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.

Her expression softens, along with her tone. "I know we've never done anything official about custody and visitation, but I _am_ his custodial parent. Even if we went to court, I'd have the advantage. But I really don't want to do that. We've always worked really well together deciding what was best for him. I don't see any reason why we can't come to some agreement this time."

"Yeah, well, those other times never included taking my son fifteen hundred miles away," I snap. I close my eyes and rub my hands over my face. "How can you expect me to be okay with this, Ang?" I meet her eyes. "How am I going to see him? You can't— Please don't ask me to be okay with this."

"There are direct flights between Seattle and Tucson, and I'm more than happy to send him down here once a month for a weekend and some holidays. I'll even pay for you to come up to see him if school gets in the way. And you can have him for a long stretch in the summer. We can make it work."

"Fuck," I murmur.

"I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do."

"So, you want to shuttle our kid back and forth like a goddamn FedEx package?"

"That's not fair."

"Why is Ben so anxious to uproot all of you anyway? I thought he was happy here."

"He is, but he's also been commuting to Tucson for the last six years so Seth would be closer to you. He's been more than flexible, on _your_ behalf, Edward. Look, I won't argue all the reasons this is a good move for us, because I don't have to justify our decisions, but I am asking you to think about what's best for Seth. He'll have opportunities in Seattle he won't have here. Yes, he'll be farther away from you, but I won't keep you from seeing him. I've never kept you from seeing him."

Staring at my boots, I mull over what she's told me, not liking it one goddamn bit. "I'm going to miss half his life, Ang."

"I know, and I'm sorry. But I really think this is best for him."

"What if—" I stop myself, unwilling to get my hopes up.

"What if what?"

I look up at her. "What if he stayed with me for one more school year."

She opens her mouth, to tell me all the reasons that's not a good idea, I'm sure, but I raise my hand and cut her off, getting more excited as I speak. "Hear me out. You come and go and do your thing—find a place, get a job up there, pack the house, whatever the fuck you need to do. We keep up the arrangement we've had all along. When you're here, he stays with me half the time and with you half the time. When you're ready to head to Washington permanently, he stays with me, goes to school and finishes up the year instead of being transferred mid-year. And Ben won't have to be without his pregnant wife for months. I'll even bring Seth up when you have the baby. Then we can work on the details of visitation and everything."

"You're asking me to leave my son here while I move halfway across the country?"

I raise a brow. "It's for less than a year, Angela. I think it's more than reasonable. Especially when you think about what you're asking of _me_."

* * *

The gavel falls, and I lean back in my chair, absolutely not in the mood to deal with this shit tonight. I take a drag on my cigarette, hoping the nicotine can calm my frayed as fuck nerves. But as soon as Pop opens his mouth, that hope flies out the window.

"García's asked us to make a special delivery for him on our way to Sturgis next month," he says.

My first instinct is to groan, but I swallow that shit down. Instead, I stare at him, my jaw tense and my teeth ground together. He knows without me opening my mouth that I'm pissed.

Making deliveries for García was never the plan.

"We don't move his shit, Pop," I grind out. "That wasn't part of the agreement."

"It's a favor to him for delaying our last shipment to him." He levels me with his own stare. "And it'll be lucrative for us. We'll make the drop on our way north, then we'll meet up with Biers on our way back into town. Drop García's shipment to him and make a bonus in the process. I don't see any reason to say no."

"Because after this, he'll use us as his bitch, and we'll be moving that garbage for him," I argue, looking around the table. "Are any of you actually okay with this shit?"

The faces looking back at me are mixed. I see apprehension in a few, but I can also see a few eyes lit up at the prospect of extra cash. I shake my head and chuckle mirthlessly as I stub out my smoke.

"As I was saying," Pop continues, "we make this run for García and get a decent payout. If he calls on us again in the future"—he shrugs—"we'll put it to another vote."

Ideas are tossed around about how to transport the quantities Pop is suggesting, along with what García is expecting of us, and a plan is made. When the vote goes around the table, I'm the last to have a say, but it's pointless. Everyone else's greed seems to override all common sense.

I storm out of the chapel and push past the few people lingering in the main room. Pop calls out for me as I go out the door, but I ignore him. I'm on my bike and peeling out of the lot before anyone can stop me.

All the shit that's happened in the last couple of days flashes through my head—Mom's half-assed attempt to set things straight with Bella, Angela moving away with my son, and now the club making drug runs for García—and it all boils over.

I pull back on the throttle and speed out of town, chasing the sun as it starts to sink into the horizon. I ride for what feels like hours, until the stars are lighting my path. When the only thing I can see for miles is fields of saguaros, I pull off to the side of the road and cut the engine, pulling a smoke from my pocket and lighting it up.

I feel like I'm at a crossroads. Angela is taking my son fifteen hundred fucking miles away from me. Pop is being blinded by dollar signs, and if he takes the club down this path, I know I don't want to be a part of it. I'm not even sure I want to stick around and see how it ends.

The only things keeping me from riding off and never looking back are Bella and the boys ... the family I need to be focused on right now.

And as if she knows I need to know she's with me, my phone buzzes in my pocket with a text from her.

_Hope everything is okay. I didn't hear from you after you talked to Ang. I'm worried about you. Call me when you can. Or just come by tonight. Love you. - B_

And just like that, the walls that feel like they're closing in on me pull back. I flick my cigarette into the road and start my bike.

It's time to go home.

* * *

**A/N: What kind of compromise do you think Edward will be able to come to with Angela? What will Bella think about the news? And what is the club getting themselves into now? Anyone else think working with García is a very bad idea? I'd love to hear your thoughts. **

*****RL is kicking us in the tail, my friends. I'm still hard at work, writing, but posting may slow down in the coming weeks as my family preps for the return to school for my boys ... whatever that's going to look like. Just a heads up that you may not see a chapter of this or Shift every week. But I'll still be around. The best place to stay in touch with me and know what's going on is in my FB group. **

**And speaking of Shift ... I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, reading Bella with someone else, but I think you're really missing out on what DrivingEdward called the "meat" of the story. ;) And the numbers are telling me only about a third of my Clutch readers are reading Shift. I encourage you to give it a chance, if only to see how they all ended up where they are now. **

**Don't forget, I've posted the Clutch and Shift outtakes as a separate story on my profile. Be sure to check it out. **

*****Fundraiser reminder!*****

**My Zoom session may be over and done, but there are still so many authors scheduled to chat with their friends and fans for a great cause. If you check out the FB group, Author's 411, some big names in fic have been recently added to the roster! And more are being added almost daily. It's your chance to talk with some of this fandom's most loved authors. See the Facebook group for more details. A schedule listing authors is posted there. There's also a post about it in my FB group. **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I also share teasers and chapter pics there every week. And you can follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220, and on my blog sited in chapter 1. Thanks so much for reading! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

**Songs:**

**Stay, Thirty Seconds to Mars  
****The Unforgiven, Metallica  
****Pages, Three Doors Down  
****Saturn, Sleeping At Last  
****Unity, Shinedown**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1. **

* * *

**Bella**

I can't sleep. I toss and turn for what feels like forever, even though it's been less than an hour since I crawled into bed. Even sending Edward a text to make sure he's okay doesn't help me relax. It isn't until I hear the bike coming down the road that I finally feel the tension leave my body.

But when I greet him at the door, it returns.

His eyes are dark and tired, even under the dim glow of the porch light. It looks like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Hey," I say as he leans in for a kiss.

"Hey." The words are spoken against my lips, and I can feel the tension rolling off him in waves. "I hope it's okay I came by. Your message—"

"It's fine. I'm glad you're here." I step aside so he can come in. "Everything all right?" I ask as he walks past me. I turn and close the door, but before I can step away from it, Edward pushes me against it.

"No, and I don't want to talk about it." His lips claim mine, and his hands claim the rest of me. Gripping my ass, he lifts me into his arms, and I wrap my legs around his waist. His lips break away from mine and move to my neck.

"Bedroom," I manage to gasp when his teeth nip the tender skin where my neck and shoulder meet.

He walks down the hall toward my bedroom, carefully nudging the door closed behind us and tossing me on the bed. As he takes off his boots and cut, I strip off my poor excuse for pajamas. The predatory gleam in his eyes sends me crawling backward, up the bed. When his heavy, belted jeans hit the floor and his shirt is yanked over his head, my eyes are drawn to the lines of muscle and ink on his chest. I lick my lips.

But when I look at his face, my playful mood evaporates. "What's wrong?"

"I told you, I don't want to talk about it," he says, climbing over me. "I need you, Bella." His voice is low, pleading, and it tugs at something inside me.

He holds himself over me, hovering, waiting, and with a single nod of my head, he settles between my spread legs, wasting no time grinding against me.

"You and the boys are the most important people in my life, you know that?" His mouth trails down my neck to my collarbone, his tongue tasting and swirling its way to my nipple. He laces our fingers together and pulls our hands over my head, resting them on the pillow and pushing inside me.

Pulling away, his eyes meet mine. In that moment, the pleading, the desperation is so clear in them, it steals my breath.

"It's okay," I whisper, trying to calm whatever storm seems to be raging inside him. "It's okay."

He buries his head in my neck, his lips finding and never leaving my skin, but he never says another word. We move together, and the power in his thrusts tells me he's fighting some unseen demon, trying to chase it away. He pushes; I push back. And the give and take between our bodies is effortless.

Completely lost in bliss, I don't feel the slow buildup at first. It isn't until my stomach tightens and tingles race across my skin that I know I'm careening over the edge into oblivion. With my head tilted back and mouth wide open, I gasp, silently screaming as Edward groans into my neck. His cock pulses inside me, and his grip on me tightens.

As my heart slows and I float back to earth, I realize he's not moving. Only his heavy, panting breaths tell me he's still alive.

I reach up and run a hand through his hair, kissing the side of his neck. "Hey," I whisper, "whatever it is, I'm here."

He lifts his head, and I'm met with a maelstrom of emotions—sadness, anger, confusion. They all swirl behind his emerald gaze, and his pain slices through me, rendering me helpless.

He kisses me gently as he pulls from my body, rolling onto his back and tugging me with him. Holding me close, he tucks my head under his chin. His heart thrums fast and hard under my ear, and I place a soft kiss there, over where his son's name is permanently etched into his skin.

When he speaks, his voice is rough and broken. "Angela and Ben are moving."

"Oh," I say simply, not really sure how to respond. I lean back and look up into his eyes. "For sure?"

He nods.

"And it's not Phoenix, is it?"

"I wish it were only Phoenix."

"Where are they moving?"

"Washington state. Just outside Seattle, I guess."

"Oh, Edward," I say softly, my heart sinking. The thought of Seth moving that far away from here, from his extended family, from Sam, from his own father ... my heart breaks for all of them ... for us. "I'm so sorry."

When tears shine in his eyes, I scoot higher on the bed and gather him into my arms, allowing him time to grieve for what he's losing. Because no matter what kind of arrangement he and Angela come to, I know things will never be the same.

We lie together in silence, neither of us moving, until he lifts his head and wipes his eyes, sniffing. "Sorry," he says gruffly, scooting over to his side of the bed.

"For what?" I draw the forgotten sheet up and cover my chest as I roll over to face him.

He ignores my question but holds an arm out for me. I settle back into his side and cover us both.

"Do you guys have a plan?"

"We're working on it. We still need to talk to Seth about everything, too." He opens his mouth then closes it again.

"What?"

"You might be pissed when I tell you what I suggested to her."

"I doubt that but tell me anyway."

"I suggested that Seth stay with me for the school year."

I lift my head off his chest and meet his worried eyes. "Why would I be upset with you for suggesting that?"

"Because you're a part of my life now, and you'll be affected by this too. I should have talked to you about it first."

I stare down at him. "That may be so, but why would I have a problem with anything that would mean you get more time with your son?"

"I don't know," he says with a huff. "It's just that this"—he waves a hand between us—"is new, and it would just add one more complication to things. He'd have to be shuffled back and forth, and I mentioned something about flying him up there when the baby is born, and—"

"Baby? Angela's pregnant?"

"Yeah. They just found out. She's due in February or March, I think."

"Oh," I say, my gaze falling to a particular swirl of ink on his chest.

He lifts my chin. "What I'm trying to say is it would mean he'd be with me full time for months. Aside from him going up there for long weekends and breaks from school, he'd be with me. That might make _this_ more difficult."

"And what about after he goes up there permanently?"

"We haven't made any decisions."

"Do you even get a choice?"

"About their move? No. About how often I see him? I guess that's entirely up to me. Seth too. We're supposed to sit down and talk to him soon ... see what he wants."

A voice niggles the back of my mind, and I can't help but ask him the question. "Have you considered relocating to be with him?"

His head falls heavier back into his pillow and he groans. "I just got you back, Bella. I can't leave you now."

"No, hear me out. Between what you paid me for the bike and the check Esme just wrote me, I have more than enough to move. We can all get away from this place." The more I think about it, the more excited I get. "We can get a place close to theirs, and the boys can still see each other."

"_We_ can get a place? You'd do that? Move that far away for me?_ Move in_ with me?" he asks with a small grin.

The smile on his face is contagious, and I push up, leaning over him. "Maybe," I say against his lips, kissing him. I pull back to look into his shining eyes. "I'd follow you anywhere, Edward. This could be the new start we all need. Get away from all the garbage that's been thrown our way."

He cups my cheek and leans in for a kiss. It's slow and deep ... but laced with regret.

When he pulls away, his forehead comes to rest on mine. "I can't," he whispers. "I have a responsibility to the club. There are some things I can't walk away from."

"Ever?" I back up, just out of his reach.

His hand falls to his chest, seemingly defeated that I'm pulling away. "Not now. Look," he says, sitting up, "I can't just up and leave. I have to see a few things through first." His eyes plead with me to understand. "When I had the colors inked on my back, it was a commitment. And I don't walk away from my commitments."

His words sting just a little, knowing he was able to walk away from me so easily years ago.

"Stop," he says softly, tilting my chin up and meeting my gaze. "Don't compare what a stupid kid did ten years ago with our now. I'm in this with you, but I also have to uphold my word to the club." He leans over me, his lips hovering over mine. "But as soon as I figure out a way to fulfill my promise to them, I'm out."

I can see the conviction in his eyes. "You mean it?"

"I do. Pop is setting us up for some shit I don't really want to be part of, but I can't just bail on them. I need to make sure they aren't going to get themselves killed or arrested. As soon as I see they have a handle on shit, I'm going to talk to Pop about going out on my own. Maybe set up a support club or another chapter. Hell, I'll steal a page from Rooster's book and go out as a nomad."

"You'd do that?" I ask, searching his eyes.

"If it meant having my family with me, starting over in a new place? Absolutely." His kiss is soft and full of promises. When he pulls away, his grin is flirtatious. "Now, if you're willing to move in with me in Washington, how opposed are you to a trial run?"

* * *

Sadly, Edward is gone before my alarm goes off. Sam and I trudge through breakfast, and I get him to daycare in time to make it to the studio before Rose. When she finally shows, it's nearly lunchtime for me, and I already have most of my work done for the day. Just as I'm deciding if I want to grab something from the vending machine or eat the protein bar in my purse, my phone rings.

"Hello." I tuck my phone against my ear, holding it up with my shoulder.

"_Hey, I wanted to let you know we're all headed over to the hospital_."

"What happened? Is everybody—"

"_Everyone is fine. Boomer called a little while ago. Maggie's in labor. They've been there since last night_."

"Oh. Should I ..."

"_If you want. Hang on_." I can hear some rustling and shifting over the phone, and when he comes back, his voice is lower. "_I know we talked about keeping you and me kind of to ourselves for a while, so it's up to you if you want to come down. But if you do, don't expect me to keep my distance. I'm kind of ready to let everybody in on the secret_."

I bite my lower lip, thinking about the ramifications of _officially_ outing us. "Give me an hour or so and I'll be there."

"_Love you_." I can almost hear the smile in his voice.

"Love you, too."

I send Rose a text to let her know I'm leaving a little early, and she replies that she'll meet me at the hospital after the shoot is done. While my computer shuts down, I organize my desk, stacking up some papers that Rose needs to sign first thing tomorrow. As I reach inside the desk drawer for a Post-it to scribble a reminder on, I come across the two letters from Masen. I've been avoiding them since I tossed them in the drawer weeks ago.

I stare down at the innocent-looking envelopes, and in a last-minute decision, I snatch them from the drawer and stuff them in my purse before locking up the office and heading to the hospital.

The lot in front of the maternity wing is nearly overflowing with Harleys when I arrive. I also spot Esme's SUV. I don't see Ali's car anywhere, so unless she came with Jazz, it looks like I'll be facing the firing squad on my own.

I steel my nerves and walk inside, stopping at the front desk to get a visitor's pass. I take the elevators to the third floor, and when I step off of it, I follow the sound of Edward's laugh floating down the hall. The maternity floor waiting room must not be large enough to hold everyone, because several people—including Edward—have spilled out into the hallway. It's a much happier scene than the last time the club was gathered in a hospital waiting room.

Almost everyone is here; club members and several of their old ladies fill the room past capacity. Kate and Vicki sit beside each other, the latter dressed in scrubs since she's probably on shift. Jazz is here, but Ali is noticeably absent. Even if I'd hoped she'd show, I didn't really expect to see her. The queen bee herself, Esme, sits in the corner, flipping through a magazine. It's the first time I've laid eyes on her since that fateful day in her kitchen.

Mac is the first one to spot me, smiling and waving at me as I approach. It gets Edward's attention, and a smile lights his face when he sees me.

"Hey, you." He reaches for my hand, and I willingly let him draw me under his arm. "Missed you." He tilts my chin up, questioning me with his eyes.

I reply by meeting him halfway. In front of everyone and his mother, I kiss him, and other than the nervous butterflies swirling in my belly, it's good. When we break apart, he swipes his thumb across my bottom lip.

I hear Esme's huff of disgust, but I don't bother to turn and look at her.

Edward's gaze, though, is locked on his mother.

"Don't," I whisper. "She's just trying to get a rise out of us."

"She better keep her distance, that's all I gotta say."

I wrap my arm around his waist and squeeze, getting his attention away from Esme. "So, how's Maggie? Has she had the baby yet?"

"Last time Boomer checked in was about an hour ago. He said she was about to start pushing, so it shouldn't be much longer," Edward answers.

"So ..." Mac's twinkling blues jumping between Edward and me. "This is quite the new development."

"New?" Edward looks down at me, smiling. "Is this new, babe?"

I can't help but laugh at his goofy expression. "Depends on what you call new."

Edward looks back up at Mac. "There ya go."

"I'm happy for you two." Mac leans in closer. "It's good to see you both smile for once." He winks and walks off, leaving Edward and me alone for a moment.

"I hated leaving you so early this morning," he says, pulling me close. "I hate leaving you period. I was serious last night when I said I want you to move in with me."

I grin up at him. "I know you were." I rise up on my tiptoes and kiss him quickly. "But hold that thought. I need to make a run to the ladies' room. I ran out of the studio too fast."

"I'll walk with you," he says, grasping my hand and letting me lead him.

The ladies' room is down the hall, just past an alcove where the vending machines are hidden.

"You want anything?" he asks, pointing to the wall of machines.

"Maybe a water. I have a protein bar in my bag, but I don't have a drink."

"One bottle of water coming right up." His eyes light up as he glances at the brightly lit machines. "Maybe they have those cupcake things I like."

I giggle, leaving him to it and ducking into the restroom. When I'm done, Edward isn't waiting outside the door like I expect. A vision of him fighting with the notoriously fussy vending machines has me smiling as I walk back toward where I left him. But as I approach, it's not Edward's grumbling about wrinkled bills that I hear.

"Are you seriously not going to speak to me?"

Esme's voice stops me cold, my footsteps coming to a halt just short of the doorway. I plaster myself against the wall outside the vending area, out of sight. My heart thunders in my chest as I wait to hear Edward's reply. I inch closer to the opening, peeking around it just enough to see but not be seen.

Edward turns to his mother, and I get a glimpse of the man who wears the cut, the one who rides with his brothers and does things I don't want to know about. "I'm sorry. Didn't I make myself clear enough last week when I said I wasn't speaking to you until you fix things with Bella?"

I don't have to see Esme's face to know she's rolling her eyes, absolutely dismissive of her son. "Are you still hung up on that nonsense? I sent her a check, or didn't she tell you?"

Edward chuckles, but it's not a pleasant sound. "Oh, she didn't have to tell me about it. I was there when she opened it. And what the hell even was that, Mom? You realize I can count, right? It doesn't take a genius to figure out you paid back less than _half,_ fuck, barely a _quarter _of what you stole from Masen."

"I don't have to justify myself to you," Esme mumbles as she turns to leave.

Edward reaches out and wraps a hand around his mother's bicep, stopping her escape.

"When I told you to make it right, I meant that shit," he growls, pulling her closer and getting within an inch of her face. "You need to pay back _every _fucking dollar."

"You think I have that kind of cash lying around?" She tries to shake out of her son's grasp, but he doesn't loosen his hold. "It was hard enough to get together the money I _did._ That girl should be thankful I paid her anything."

"Yeah, because you've been _so _great to her all these years."

"What more does she want from me?"

"How about not treating her like your mortal enemy? That would be a nice start."

"Her presence in our life—"

"Her presence in our lives _what_? What did Bella's presence in our lives do to you to make you hate her so much?"

Esme straightens her back to her full height and meets her son's eyes. This time _her _jaw is clenched. "Because her father threatened to—"

"No, try again. There's more to it than that, and we both know it."

She grinds her teeth and narrows her eyes. "Because if she'd have left, you wouldn't have had the constant reminder of what she did to you," she spits. "You had to see her, watch her with your brother for all those years, and having her so close ... Edward, I know that's what held you back from having a family of your own. It's what's kept you single all these years ... kept you from being happy. I only wanted to see my son happy."

He leans in close, and I can see the fire burning in his eyes from where I'm standing as he hovers over his mother. "You have no fucking idea, do you? _I_'_m _the one who hurt _her._ _I_'_m _the one who ruined _her_ life. But I did it because I thought it was what was best at the time. And I never settled down with anyone because no one else ever meant enough to me for more than a fuck. I've been perfectly content to concentrate on my son all these years. Even Bella knew back then that it was more important for me to be a good father to my kid. _She _decided to not fight for us because of Seth." He hesitates, and I can see the cogs turning in his head. "But putting a child's best interests before your own is a foreign concept to you, isn't it?"

"That's not fair, Edward. You have no idea what it feels like to be asked to accept your husband's child. To know that the person you love, the person who is supposed to love you, had a kid with someone else. A kid born to a whore junkie who wouldn't stop coming around your own family."

"So, you took it out on an innocent child? And I _do _know what it's like to watch the person I love make a family with someone else. But you know what? I accepted it, hell, I embraced it. Because at the end of the day, two of the people who mean the world to me were so fucking happy. Even with all the shit you put them through, they were happy ... at least until they couldn't pay their fucking bills because the bitch who wrote Masen's checks was shorting him all these years."

Esme finally pulls her arms from her son's grasp. "I've paid her what I can," she says defiantly. "That's going to have to be enough." She starts to walk away, but Edward stops her.

"It's not good enough. If you don't fix it, if you don't pay her back, we're through. I meant that shit when I said you wouldn't see Seth."

"How can you—"

"I mean it, Mom. You make it right or we're through."

A beat of silence passes between them before Esme speaks. "So, that's how it's going to be? That little bitch is gonna turn my son against me?"

"No"—he shakes his head—"you've done that all on your own."

"You're making a mistake ... being with her is a mistake," Esme says, her words sounding like both a plea and a warning.

"I'm not the one making a mistake, Mom."

Without another word, Esme walks out of the alcove. Instinctively, I pull back, worried she'll see me, but her back stays turned to me as she walks away, disappearing around another corner.

"Hey," Edward says, surprising me when he steps to my side. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough. Thank you for standing up for me."

He hands me the bottle of water as his gaze is drawn to where his mother disappeared. "I'm not going to let her get away with it." He turns to me, and his earnest expression gives weight to his words. "She's hurt you so much, and I'm not going to let her do it again."

I rise up on tiptoes and kiss him. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. You're mine now, and I'll be damned if I let her get away with that shit. But enough about my mother." He reaches for my hand and tugs. "Come on. Let's go see if that baby's here yet." He guides us back toward the waiting room where everyone else is. We walk side by side, our hands swinging between us, and his expression turns mischievous.

"What has you grinning like an idiot?"

"I was just thinking I'd stay with you again tonight."

"Yeah?" My footsteps come to a halt a safe distance from the waiting room, making Edward stop short. I turn and wrap my arms around his neck, smiling up at him. "I think that could be arranged." The kiss we share is nearly indecent for a public place, and before we get carried away and start whispering what kind of dirty things we want to do to each other, Boomer bursts through the double doors at the end of the hallway.

"It's a boy!"

Congratulations, back slaps, and the biggest group hug I've ever seen fill the hallway. Cigars are handed out, but not lit, and everyone's smiles are beaming. Boomer shares little Oliver's stats, and assures us Maggie is resting comfortably in her room. Once we know mom and baby are doing well, most of the guys leave, their women following right behind them.

Boomer returns to his wife, and those of us left linger in the waiting room. Edward, Mac, Jazz, and Carl stand around, shooting the shit and talking about who's going to Sturgis next month. My ears perk when Edward doesn't automatically say whether or not he's going. After a while, I start considering taking off to get a few things done before I have to pick up Sam, but when Boomer comes back out to see who's still here, I'm glad I've stayed.

"Want to meet him?" he asks me.

"Yeah? You sure she's up to visitors?"

"I'm sure. She said to bring in anybody that was still hanging around if they wanted to meet him. She'd love to show him off. Her parents can't get here until tomorrow."

I interrupt Edward's talk with Carl to let him know where I'm going and follow Boomer to Maggie's room. What I see when I walk in makes my heart so happy.

Maggie is sitting in her bed, cradling her newborn son in her arms, and a serene smile lights her face.

"Bella," she says softly, happiness spilling out of her. "Come see him."

When I reach her bedside, I peek at the tiny, capped bundle in her arms. "He's beautiful, Maggie."

"Do you want to hold him?"

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

After I wash my hands, Maggie hands him over, and I settle into the chair at her bedside.

"He's so tiny," I whisper, looking at her. "I forgot how tiny they are when they're brand new."

"He certainly didn't _feel_ tiny. Pushing out his giant head has probably changed my lady bits for life."

"That was probably the only good thing about having Sam the way I did. He might have been a little early, but having a C-section, I never had to worry about my _lady bits _being changed forever. But I hear it all goes back to normal soon enough. And everyone says Kegels make a world of difference."

"Yeah, the doc mentioned that. He also offered to put in an extra stitch."

"He did not!" I ask, shocked, my mouth hanging wide open.

"He did." She raises a brow. "I told him to take his extra stitch and shove it up his ass."

"Good."

The weight of little Oliver in my arms is familiar, and for a brief moment, I think about the baby I miscarried a few months ago. I'd be more than halfway through my pregnancy by now if I hadn't lost it. But I push away those thoughts and consider the new possibilities. Maybe I could have this again. A little person, half me and half Edward. Once we get settled and figure out what's next for us, we could absolutely try for a baby of our own. Surprisingly, the thought doesn't terrify me as much as I thought it would.

"Now, that is a beautiful sight." Edward walks up beside me and kisses the top of my head before he makes his way to Maggie. "How are you, sweetheart?" he asks her as he kisses her cheek. "You did good. He looks nothing like his old man, thank God."

"Hey," Boomer protests from his spot on the other side of his giggling wife's bed.

"Seriously, guys, he's perfect."

"He is, isn't he?" Maggie asks, sighing and leaning into her husband's arms.

When Edward steps behind me and places his hands on my shoulders, Maggie's gaze shifts from her son to us, her brow raised. "So, do _you two_ have anything to share?"

Edward rubs his thumbs up and down my neck, but he doesn't say anything. When Maggie's tired but bright eyes bounce between me and my man, my cheeks heat up and my ever-present smile only grows.

"That's so great, guys. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, Maggie." My phone alarm beeps from my bag, and I know my time here is over. "I'm gonna have to take off. I'll need to pick up Sam in a bit." I rise from my seat, carefully handing the baby back to his mother. "Congratulations, hon." I kiss her cheek.

"Thanks for sticking around to meet him. I guess not everyone did." She looks a little dejected.

"They probably just want to give you a chance to rest. I'm sure you'll have so many visitors tonight you'll want them all to go home." I look down at little Oliver sleeping in her arms, and then I grin up at Maggie. "You should rest while you have the chance, because your hours of sleep are officially numbered."

Edward walks me out, promising to stop by after he finishes at the shop, and I head to my car. As I rummage through my bag for my keys, I pass over the letters. Once I'm behind the wheel and the engine is running, Edward takes off. I sit with the AC blasting for several minutes, thinking about ... everything. The clock on the dash reads 2:00, so I have almost an hour before I need to pick up Sam.

The cemetery isn't too far from the hospital, and it's nearly empty this time of day. Only groundskeepers are milling around. It's the first time I've been back since the day of the funeral, so it takes me a few minutes to find Masen's grave, and when I do, I'm not prepared for what I see.

The black granite headstone is sharp and polished, unlike some of the older ones surrounding it. Seeing his name carved into the stone brings me up short. Ordering it was a task I delegated to Edward, so until this moment, I had no idea what it even said.

_Masen "Mase" Cullen_

_Beloved_ _Husband  
__Devoted Father  
__Loyal Brother_

"I'm trying to figure out why I felt the need to do this here." I laugh humorlessly, shaking my head. "I wasn't sure if I could ever come," I admit to the dirt beneath my feet. "And I'm not entirely sure I believe you can hear me. But I guess this is a way to be close to you, maybe feel some of that closure everyone talks about. I don't know."

Feeling ridiculous speaking to the ground, I sit, curling my feet underneath me. "Your brother brought me the letters you wrote me and Sam. I haven't read them yet. I guess I wasn't ready until now." I look up at the stone. "But things are changing. Edward asked me to move in with him, and I think I'm going to accept. So I need to put the past behind me so we can move on without it hanging over my head."

I pull the letters from my pocket and shuffle them back and forth, finally deciding to start with the letter to Sam. It's what I expect. Apologies and promises to watch over him fill the page, and bits of fatherly advice are sprinkled in, along with orders for Sam to take care of his mother. I'm choked up, but I feel confident that I can give Sam this letter sooner than later.

When I open the letter addressed to me, the tears that have clouded my eyes finally spill over onto my cheeks.

_Bella,_

_Where do I even start? I feel like all I've done is make apologies lately, but this has to be the biggest one. _

_I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry for all the hell I've put you through. I'm sorry that my failure this time means you're in danger, and I'll die knowing I fucked up. I don't know how you can ever forgive me, but I'm praying to a god I don't believe in that you will. _

_I wasted so much time being angry about things I couldn't control. And it was all wasted time when I could have been happy with you instead. I won't make excuses. I know my actions the last few years have been beyond painful. I threw away everything that meant anything to me, and I stopped trying. I'll always regret that. It was all me. You were always enough. You were always there to pick up my pieces, always willing to forgive me and give me another chance. I'm sorry I couldn't be the man you needed me to be. _

_I don't think I ever was. _

_Take care of my boy, and ... be happy. That's it. Do whatever it is that makes you happy. Leave this godforsaken town and start over somewhere else if you need to. Fall in love with someone who will make you smile, because God knows I haven't been able to for a very long time. But live the rest of your life knowing the years you gave me were the best years of my life. I'm just sorry I was too fucked up to realize it at the time. _

_I love you, Bella. I've loved you since the day you gave me that damn guardian bell on my birthday all those years ago. I knew then, when you told me you cared about me, that I would do anything to keep you in my life. And if I could go back in time and change things, get a do over, I would. The only thing I wouldn't change is taking a chance on us. _

_Be happy._

_All my love,_

_Masen_

I fold the letter and slip it back in its envelope, and after wiping the tears from my cheeks, I stand. As I lean forward, I close my eyes. "Thank you. And I love you too, Masen." I kiss the top of his headstone and turn around, walking back to my car. It's time to go get my son. We have a few things to talk about.

* * *

Sam is helping me make dinner when I bring up moving, and he's more than a little excited about it. He talks nonstop about movie nights in Seth's room, and then he tries to convince me to let him have a TV in his room. And with his puppy dog eyes, it's hard to tell him no.

He asks where I'll sleep since Edward's house only has three bedrooms, and it takes me a moment to decide how to approach the subject.

"Well, that's something I need to talk to you about, kiddo. Your uncle and I are ... we're ..."

"You're what, Mommy?"

I take a deep breath and blow it out. "Your uncle and I are ... dating."

His face scrunches up in confusion. "Dating?"

"Yeah, like spending more time together. Holding hands ... hugging—"

"Like kissy face stuff?"

I giggle at his summation. "Kissy face stuff? Where did you hear that?"

He shrugs and tries to toss the small salad he helped make. "From my friend at school. He said his mommy and her boyfriend were making kissy faces with each other. Does that mean you're Uncle E's boyfriend?"

"Um, it would be girlfriend since I'm a girl, but yes."

"Oh," he says simply. His brow furrows as he focuses on the bowl of vegetables, but he doesn't say anything else for a long time as he works out in his head what it all means.

"Does that mean you'll sleep in Uncle E's room?" he finally asks.

I nod slowly. "Yeah, I will. Does that bother you?"

"Ava said mommies and daddies sleep in the same room. Does that mean he'll be my new daddy?" he asks as he faces me.

"No, baby." I turn and wrap my arms around him, tilting his chin up to meet my eyes. "He'll always be your uncle. He'd never try to take Daddy's place. But he wants us all to live together, like a family." I silently beg him to understand.

"So, I don't have to call him 'Daddy'?"

"No, baby. You can still call him Uncle E."

"Even if you get married?"

"Married? Do you think we'd get married?"

"Isn't that what growned-up boys and girls do when they hug and kiss?"

"Hug and kiss? Did you see—"

"I saw you kissin' a few days ago."

"Oh."

He leans forward and lowers his voice. "Are you gonna have a baby now?"

"A baby? Sam, where did you hear—"

"'Cause Matty said that's how babies are made."

"Well, Matty is wrong."

"So, you're not having a baby?"

"Not right now."

His tiny body sags in relief, and it makes me giggle. "Good. 'Cause I don't want to share my toys with anybody but Seth."

"I'm glad we got that settled, Sam, but what about moving?"

He crosses his scrawny arms over his chest and tilts his head as he looks up at me. "Am I getting a TV?"

* * *

It's two weeks before the trailer is completely cleared out and locking the door on our last trip to pack up is bittersweet in many ways. This is where I brought home a newborn Sam, where he took his first steps, where we shared a few happy years as a family. But it's also where the dark days of my marriage to Masen started. And looking at the For Sale sign in the yard and the empty rooms visible through curtain-less windows, it looks devoid of all life, like the shell it felt like for so long.

"You okay?" Edward asks from behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist.

I turn in his arms and chuckle, shaking my head. "I don't know why I'm so sentimental. This place has almost more bad memories than good."

"Come on," he says, tugging me toward my car. "Let's go make some new ones."

* * *

**A/N: So, how are we feeling? I'd love to hear your thoughts. **

**Some of our amazing fandom writers have recently published books! Cecilia Rene, a.k.a. ceceprincess1217, has published The Bachelor Duke. If you loved the fic, you'll love the reworked published version. I was lucky enough to be on her prereading team, and I can tell you this, if you're a fan of historical romances, you don't want to miss this one. Kristina Sanchez, a.k.a. LyricalKris, has published Never Enough, and Faye Byrd, a.k.a. Fyrebyrd, has just published A Dirty Lion ... with two more in the series to follow. These are all available on Amazon now! Do yourself a favor and check them out! **

**And happy Midnight Sun release to those of you who are reading! I'm excited to dig into it when my hardback arrives later today. **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics, even if it's just to talk about your day or share a meme or joke. Anything to make each other smile. I also share teasers and chapter pics there. You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220. **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

**Songs:**

**So Far Gone, Thousand Foot Krutch  
****Darkness Settles In, Five Finger Death Punch  
****The Kill, Thirty Seconds to Mars****  
****Living The Dream, Five Finger Death Punch **

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter one. **

* * *

**Edward**

I can't keep my eyes off of her as she moves over me. With her head thrown back, her hair mussed and clinging to her face and neck, she's a vision of pure, fucking perfection.

"That's it," I coax, my thumb rubbing circles around her clit and my hand splayed out over her lower belly. She changes her angle, her hands coming to rest on my chest, forcing me deeper inside. My cock is hitting her in _just_ the right spot, making me grunt and her gasp.

"Oh." Her head jerks forward, and her eyes meet mine. Using me for leverage, she pushes back, grinding against me. "Oh, fuck," she groans, her eyelids fluttering closed.

I grasp her hips but don't guide her movements so much as just hold on, letting her keep the fuck awesome rhythm she's got going. "That's it, Bella. Fuck me, baby."

Her eyes open, her heated, hungry gaze locking with mine, and she rotates her hips just a little faster and with a little more purpose. When she starts to rise up to slam back down, I meet her thrust for thrust. Both of us chase our high, and when we finally come, it's together and it's intense and beautiful and perfect and just about every other clichéd thing I can think of.

It's going to suck to be away from her for two weeks.

She falls forward against my chest, her breath hot against my skin as it escapes her in heavy pants. My own breathing is labored, and my heart pounds against my ribcage. I trail the fingertips of one hand up and down her back while using my other hand to brush the hair from her face and neck. I can't keep my hands off her, even though we're both slick with sweat and in desperate need of a shower. Knowing I won't have her like this for way too fucking long, I want to make this moment last as long as I can.

"What time do you have to be on the road?" Her voice is low, quiet in the dark, as if she were to speak any louder it would fracture the peace that's settled over us.

"About an hour." I kiss the top of her head. "I'd love to stay and have breakfast with you and the boys, but the guys want to get an early start."

"I understand. Think you have time for a shower with me?" she asks, hopeful.

I roll us over and settle between her spread legs, kissing a trail up her neck and nipping at her ear. "I'll _make_ time."

After a long and _thorough_ shower, I have to force myself to finish up what needs to be done so I can leave. As I go through my mental checklist, making sure I'm not forgetting anything, I realize I haven't taken care of some pretty important shit. I stuff one more DOMC t-shirt into my backpack and zip it closed.

"Got everything?" she asks from the doorway.

"Almost. Come here." I motion her over and open my arms. She walks into them and I wrap them around her tightly. "I'm going to miss you so fucking much."

"I'm going to miss you, too," she mumbles. "Just ..."

"Just what?"

"Look, I know shit happens on runs. That shit _stays_ on the road. I've never wanted to know about it. And Sturgis is a big one. But now ... I can't ..." She blows out a heavy breath. "I just want you to remember what's waiting for you at home, okay?"

I grasp her chin and tilt her head up to look at me. "I'm not going to throw away what we've got here on patch whores and a good time, okay? You're too important to me. I just got you back, and I'm not gonna fuck it up now."

She nods, but I'm not convinced she believes me.

"Go get your phone."

"What? Why?"

"I want to show you how to track me. I don't want you to think I'm trying to hide anything from you."

"Edward, you don't have to—"

"I do. Go get it."

A small smile graces her pouty lips as she reaches over to the nightstand to grab it. "Here," she says, unlocking it and handing it over.

After making a huge production of showing her my phone's passcode and how to find me using my shared location, I hand back her phone. "Now you'll know where I am at all times."

"Thank you," she says softly, looking up at me. "It really means a lot."

"It's the absolute least I can do." I pull her closer and hold her tighter. "I also need to show you something before I go."

"What?"

"The access code for the safe. I want to make sure you can get to what's in there if you need it while I'm gone."

She pulls away just enough to look up at me. "What could I possibly need while you're gone?"

"It's a long ride to South Dakota, Bella. A lot can happen between here and there. There's paperwork, cash, a couple guns." I shrug a shoulder. "Shit you might need." Looking down at her—freshly-fucked and still a little glassy-eyed—I can't bring myself to tell her about the run we're making for García. It's best if I keep that one to myself.

"You're making it sound like the road will be fraught with peril." She rolls her pretty brown eyes. "You've made the trip every year since you patched in, so stop acting like you're riding toward your doom."

I must not school my expression quick enough, because she sees it.

"What is the club up to now?"

"The only thing I can tell you is that I can't tell you. But I'm not hiding where I'll be, okay? That's the best I can do."

"Okay," she murmurs as she stares at my chest, idly playing with the chain around my neck.

"Are you sure you're okay with dropping Seth off at Angela's?"

"I told you I didn't mind."

It's been a strange but peaceful transition for all of us. The boys took to living together like ducks to water. It took them a little longer to get used to seeing Bella and me being demonstratively affectionate with each other, though.

Sitting down with Angela and Seth to discuss what was next for us was easier than I thought it would be. I wasn't going to force Seth to do anything he didn't want to do, so we gave him the option of staying here for one more school year before moving with his mom to Seattle. He was quick to decide. Living with his cousin was a bigger draw than discovering a new city, and I wasn't shy about making it known it made me so damn happy that he chose to stay with me.

Now, just a few weeks later, everyone has settled in. The boys seem to have adjusted to the strangeness of their parents being together. Angela and Ben don't leave for Seattle for another month, so we're sticking with the same visitation schedule we've always had. While I'm in Sturgis, Seth will be with his mom, which leaves Bella and Sam here alone with only a couple new prospects to keep an eye on them.

I can't say I feel good about it, but I have a part to play for the club, whether I like it or not.

After showing her how to open the safe in our closet, I sneak into Seth's room where Sam is camping out in a makeshift bed on the floor. I wake them enough to tell them goodbye, kissing them both and getting sleepy-eyed goodbyes in return from each of them.

With a final kiss from Bella that will play on a loop in my head for days to come, I head out for the clubhouse where everyone else is meeting.

It's time to hit the road.

* * *

"A few of us are making a pit stop before we head north." Pop stands at the head of the table in the chapel. Our impromptu church meeting is to make sure we have all of our proverbial ducks in a row before we hit the road. "García has his shipment ready for us to load, and he's expecting us before nine. E, Jazz, Mac, and Trigger are with me. We'll meet up with the rest of you at that diner we always stop at outside Flagstaff. We need to make it to Grand Junction by tonight for the drop. Any questions?"

With no questions or objections, Pop calls church to a close, and we file out of the chapel and head outside. Some of the shit we can't haul on our bikes—shit like the support gear we'll be hocking while we're at the rally—is loaded into the van. I help move a few boxes but stand back to watch as Tracker and the new prospect arrange it all.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see my mother leaning against the doorframe of the shop's office, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes laser focused on me. Seeing her isn't a shock; I've seen her almost daily since our run-in at the hospital. But outside of work-related shit, I haven't spoken to her since then.

I've never left for the rally without saying goodbye. But things are different now.

She's made her choice.

When everything is loaded and everyone has made their final check, we hit the road. We're only a handful of miles outside town when those of us meeting García split off and head for South Tucson. It's still early, and the meeting spot is all but deserted. Much like the abandoned service station where I met him last time, García and his men have chosen another desolate area in which to meet.

It's a quiet exchange. Pop and our business partner have a hushed conversation while the rest of us load up our saddlebags with the _product_ we're moving for him. I'm polite, respectful, when Pop calls me over to join in the conversation, even though inside I'm seething over this bullshit.

"I want to thank you for being understanding about our issues with your shipments a few weeks back," Pop says to García as I approach. "We had quite a few interruptions in recent weeks."

My hackles rise at his choice of words. As if Masen's death was a speed bump or minor inconvenience or some shit.

"So, I appreciate your patience with the club," Pop continues.

García waves away Pop's comment. "It was no problem. The special package your son delivered was more than enough compensation for my troubles."

My heart pounds double time at the mention of the heroin I hand delivered a few weeks back.

Pop's smile only briefly wavers, but his eyes flash in my direction. "I'm glad to hear it."

García turns to me. "It was a pleasure dealing directly with you last time. If you were ever to take over for your father, I want you to know I would be happy continuing our arrangement."

I nod but remain silent.

"That's good to know," Pop replies for me.

García hands over a slip of paper, the address where we're supposed to dump this shit written in his messy scrawl. "The men at this address will be expecting you after sundown."

"It won't be a problem," Pop says, his what I call _business_ smile wide. "Here's to the beginning of a beautiful friendship." He thrusts his hand out, and García takes it, sealing the deal with a handshake.

"Please make sure you tell Esme and Alice that they should visit one of my daughter's boutiques in Nogales. I would be happy to make sure they receive a discount." As he turns to me, my skin crawls, knowing what he's about to say. "And the beautiful Bella should join them. Maybe bring those handsome boys of yours along. I'm sure we could find something that young Seth and Samuel would enjoy."

"I'll be sure to tell them," Pop says, his voice finally showing the first sign of the uneasiness he should have felt from the beginning. He releases García's hand, and as we turn around to walk back to our bikes, tension radiates off both of us. When we're out of earshot of both García _and_ our guys, I can't keep my opinion to myself any longer.

"Do you have any _fucking_ idea what kind of shit you've gotten us into?" I growl. "You've just made a deal with the devil." I turn to look at him, fire blazing in my eyes. "That offer for a discount isn't twenty-five percent off a handbag. That motherfucker just threatened us. You realize that, don't you?"

His jaw clenches, but he doesn't turn to face me, merely putting one foot in front of the other to get back to our bikes, back to the other guys who are double-checking the loads.

"Yes, I realize it," he snaps. The sound of gravel crunching under tires can be heard as García and his men pull away behind us. "You think I don't know how dangerous this is?" He finally stops and turns to me, putting out a hand to stop me. "But it's worth the risk. We _need_ this. The money we could generate for the club could change all our lives. This is just the first step toward bigger things. I think it's worth more than a little risk."

I step into his space, leaning in until my face is an inch away from his. "I didn't sign up for this, Pop. I'm not prepared to risk the people I care about. People like García don't throw around the names of old ladies and kids for shits and giggles. He wants us to know he's got us under his thumb. One little thing goes wrong, and he's going to go after our _families_. Tell me how that's worth the risk." My hands are clenched into fists at my sides, and I have to resist the urge to kick his ass. "That's my girl ... my kids he's threatening."

"It's a risk everyone was willing to take," he bites back.

"Yeah, well, if you remember, I voted no to this shit."

"You're a part of this club, and you know what that means. We're in this together, whether you like it or not." I start to walk away, but he reaches out and grabs my arm. "I think you have some explaining to do, too, son."

I shake him off. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"What was he saying back there about a special package?"

I shake my head. "Nah, motherfucker, _that_ has nothing to do with _this_. I'm not gonna let you change the subject and flip the script on me." I stomp toward the rest of the guys, snatch my brain bucket off the handlebars, and straddle the seat. "Come on. We need to get going if we're gonna meet the others on time."

I fire up my bike before he can question me any more, pulling toward the street and waiting. Reluctantly, Pop lets me lead, and I take advantage of it, allowing the wind and speed to clear my head.

When we finally meet up with the rest of the club, they're already halfway through their meals, so the rest of us order whatever the special is and wolf it down. I stay as far as I physically can from Pop, choosing to talk to the new prospect. Tyler Crowley's been hanging around for a few months, and the day after he turned twenty-one, he showed up asking to prospect. He's got an old lady and a little girl at home, and he seems to be pretty laid-back. Chatting him up, I'm pretty convinced he's a good fit for us. He also needs a road name, and I make it a goal to figure out one for him by the end of the week.

It's something I can concentrate on instead of the growing ball of anxiety rolling in my gut the closer we get to the drop.

As we approach Grand Junction, Colorado, we split off once again, five of us carrying the shipment and the others making their way to the hotel. The closer we get to the delivery location, the bigger and heavier that ball in my stomach gets. When we ride up on the address García gave us, my senses are on full alert.

In an out-of-the-way place this side of the city, just off the interstate near the airport, the drop point is in a much more developed area than I was expecting. I'm more than a little wary about how we're going to be able to keep things discreet. Nervous energy creeps along my skin, and every car we pass, every person who looks our way as we ride by, I'm worried they're undercover cops here to haul our asses to jail on drug charges.

The five of us ride past the open gates surrounding the building and into the lot. Standing next to a blue sedan parked away from the glow of any lamppost, two men wait for us. Pop rattles off the code word García gave us, and the exchange is made.

Not knowing these people or what they might try to pull makes me jumpy, and I'm sure it shows as I try to unload the shit as fast as I can. Once it's all done, we go our separate ways; they continue east on I-70 and we turn toward the city and the hotel.

With every mile I put between them and us, my saddlebags aren't the only things that feel lighter.

We stop at a Holiday Inn not too far from the drop location. Everyone is bunking with their usual roommate, which means I'm with Jazz. After a shower and a quick call to Bella to let her know we've stopped for the night, I sprawl out on the bed, checking out what's on pay-per-view and eating the takeout I snagged from the hotel's grill.

Jazz walks out in a pair of shorts, rubbing a towel over his damp head. "Find anything good?"

"Nah. I've seen most of this already."

He plops down onto his bed and cracks open his Styrofoam box, digging into his room-temperature nachos. "Then just switch on ESPN or something. I'll probably just crash once I'm done eating anyway."

"You got it." I scroll through the channels to find the one I'm looking for, and we settle in to watch the highlights from a motocross race.

Both of us nosh on our dinner, and the longer we sit in silence, the more it starts to bug me. Things haven't really been the same between us since my meeting with García weeks ago, and it bothers me that there's still tension.

"You and Ali okay?" I ask, attempting to start the conversation.

He shrugs, scooping a giant mound of beef and cheese onto a chip. "She's been stressing again about the baby thing."

"I noticed she wasn't at the hospital the day Boomer's kid was born."

He stares blankly at the television. "She couldn't bring herself to hold another one, ya know?" he asks, finally looking my way. "She wants us to go see a doctor. Get tested or whatever."

"It might be a good idea. You two have been trying for a while, right?"

He bobs his head in a nod. "Yeah. A few years."

"Then go for it. What's the worst that can happen?"

He scoffs. "Yeah, don't ask your sister that. She'll give you a list a mile long of all the shit that could happen, namely that they tell us something is really wrong, and it won't happen for us."

"Have you guys thought about adoption?"

"We've talked about it, but we're both worried any agency would take one look at me and laugh us out of their office." He tosses his goop-covered chip back in the box and wipes his fingers on a napkin. "It would kill me to think me being part of the club would ruin her chances to be a mom."

"There's always private adoptions. There are ways, Jazz. Don't give up before you even know what the deal is. She could be knocked up right now. You just don't know."

He's silent for a few moments, back to blankly staring at the television. "Yeah," he finally says, either in agreement or just to end the conversation.

The race highlights fill the silence, and we both go back to eating. When my food is gone, I settle back into my bed, folding an arm behind my head. I start to doze off, but Jazz's voice gets my attention.

"You and Carl okay?" he asks.

I sit up a little higher and look over at him. "Guess so. We don't exactly see eye to eye on this shit with García, though."

"You have to know if it wasn't about the money, I would have voted against it, too. Even with insurance, fertility treatments aren't exactly cheap. I need to scrape together every cent we have if we end up going that route."

"I get it. Doesn't mean I like it, but I get it."

The TV is the only sound in the room for a long while until Jazz brings up something I'd rather leave in the past.

"You ever gonna tell me what you slipped García the night you and I met up with him?"

My head thumps against the headboard, and I blow out a heavy breath. "I don't think it even matters at this point."

"Is it something that can come back to bite our asses?"

I stare up at the ceiling. "I don't think so. But telling you or anyone else could change that, and I'd rather leave things the way they are." I turn my head and meet his questioning eyes. "I think we should leave the past buried in this case."

"If you think that's for the best."

"I do. But if it ever comes up and I need to figure shit out, you'll be the first person I come to."

His nod is slow but reassuring. "Okay," he drawls. "I'm here for whatever you need, man."

"Thanks."

My gaze returns to the ceiling, my thoughts a jumbled mess as I shuffle through all the shit that's been thrown my way since Masen died. And like always, Jazz picks up on it.

"There something else eatin' you up over there?"

I chuckle humorlessly, wondering if it would be better to lighten the load I'm carrying. "You sure you wanna know?"

"Do you really gotta ask me that?"

Again, I swivel my head to look at him, hesitating for a moment. But when he nods, encouraging me, I finally ask, "What would you say if I told you Esme had been stealing from Mase?"

His brow furrows. "Stealing how?"

"Shorting his paychecks."

"Like, what are we talking? Twenty bucks a week?"

"I'm talking paying him several bucks an hour less than the rest of us ... for the last ten years. That bitch was underpaying Mase from the day he hired into the shop."

"Why the fuck would she do that?"

I shrug. "Maybe she thought he'd move on, look for work elsewhere, get fed up with scraping by and leave town ... take Bella with him. I can't even begin to wonder what her intentions were. The only thing she's told me is she wanted Bella away from me. She has it in her head I've been pining for her all this time and haven't settled down because Bella was still around."

He raises a brow and purses his lips. "But isn't Es right?"

I huff a breath and cross my arms over my chest. "It doesn't matter. She fucked them up, Jazz. The money she took could have made all the difference for them." I think about Masen's letter ... his confession about taking the heroin to sell for extra cash. My gut twists at the thought that he died over money my mother owed him. Even though I clear my throat, my voice is raspy when I speak. "I believe down to the marrow of my bones Mase would be alive if she hadn't done what she did."

Jazz stares at me for a long moment, and I can see the gears turning in his head. His jaw tenses, and I can see in his eyes when he starts making the connections. "So, Caius went after him for more than just fucking around with his daughter?"

I don't reply. Instead, I continue to hold his stare.

"E, there are only a few reasons Volturi would come after him."

When I don't reply, he sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "Did Carl know what she was up to?"

"He says he didn't, but at this point, I'm not so sure I believe him."

"But he knows now?"

I bob my head in a nod. "Yeah, but he didn't seem very enthusiastic about making her pay it back."

His brows shoot up, surprised. "She's actually paying it back?"

"She sent Bella a check for some of it but still owes her a shit ton of money, Jazz."

"What are you gonna do about it?"

I exhale a heavy breath. "Other than cutting her out of my life and Seth's, I have no fucking idea."

* * *

**A/N: So, do we think they've made a deal with the devil? Do you think Edward has a reason to worry? What do you think is next for them? I'd love to hear what you think. **

**The Outcasts are on their way to Sturgis, SD for the bike rally that happens to be actually taking place this week. They're expecting a crowd into the hundreds of thousands ... even with a pandemic raging on. Lol. In years past, it's been estimated to attract upwards of 600k people. Can you imagine? I've never been, but it's something Mr. Sunshine and I would love to see one day. **

**The fundraiser to help one of our Twi Sisters is still ongoing, with Zoom calls with some of your favorite fic writers still to come. See the Facebook group, Author's 411, for more details. **

**Things are about to get crazy for me, so my posting schedule will be a little wonky the next couple of weeks. I'll keep you posted in my FB group and in A/Ns, so be sure to read the fine print. ;) **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics, even if it's just to talk about your day or share a meme or joke. Anything to make each other smile. I also share teasers and chapter pics there. You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220. **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

**Songs:**

**I Miss You, Incubus  
****Honey I'm Good, Andy Grammer  
****Wanted Dead Or Alive, Bon Jovi**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter one.**

* * *

*****PLEASE a see A/N below about posting schedule change!*****

* * *

**Edward**

Early the next morning, we set off before dawn breaks over the horizon. It's another ten hours to Sturgis, and every time we stop to fill up, eat, or take a piss, I call to check in with Bella.

"_The guys are going to tease you about being pussy-whipped if you keep calling me_," she teases.

"Let 'em. I wanted to hear your voice. You and Sam okay?"

"_Edward, you've only been gone a day. We're fine_."

"Call me if you—"

"_If I need anything. I got it. Go get back on the road so you can get there before dark. I'm sure some of the events have already started_."

"Yeah, I think a couple of the guys are hitting a concert tonight." I look over at Pop as he motions for me to wrap it up. "I gotta go."

"_Okay. Call me when you have a chance ... but maybe wait till you check in tonight?_"

I can imagine her nose scrunching up, and it makes me smile. "I will, baby. Love you."

"_I love you, too, Edward. Be safe_."

* * *

The club as a whole is an impressive sight. With more than a dozen of us rolling down the road and the new prospect driving the van at the rear, I'm sure we're more than a little intimidating to the average Joe driving down the highway. From the glares of the minivan-driving men to the stares of the salivating women we ride past, the way people look at us always amuses me. But the nearer we get to Sturgis, the fewer the cars become, and our road mates start to look more and more like us.

When we roll into town as the sun is setting, the party atmosphere is in full swing. The town is crawling with bikes. With patches and colors as far as the eye can see, along with average riders here for the week-long party, it promises to be a good time. Vendors and events are everywhere we look, and as we navigate the city streets looking for our hotel, I'm sad I couldn't bring Bella this time. The concerts scheduled this week alone would have been worth the trip for her.

The motel is in the center of the action, right where most of the guys want to be. We park our rides and head into the lobby. The line to check in is long, but I was expecting it. Every hotel and motel in the area is booked. When it's finally my turn, the redhead at the front desk makes sure I know of all the available _amenities_. But when she slips me a card with a phone number scribbled on the back, I know she's talking about more than the complimentary coffee bar.

She's cute. Maybe five-three, a buck ten at most, and her tits are practically spilling out of the shirt she's wearing. The bright blue of her eyes is almost turquoise, and it makes me question if they're contacts. Surely no one has that eye color naturally. In years past, I'd consider taking her up on her blatant offer. Hell, in years past I did more than consider it. But seeing her for what she is—a polished patch whore looking to bed as many bikers as she can this week—I hand over my credit card and grab my room key, getting out of there as quickly as possible. Knowing what I have waiting for me at home, I'm not even tempted. There's zero comparison.

I bypass the guys waiting in line and head out to my bike, snatching my pack off the rear seat. It's an old-style motel, with the doors outside. I climb the single flight of stairs and walk the path to the last room on the end of the second floor. When I get inside and close the door behind me, I take advantage of the silence. I know the guys will be knocking soon to hit the strip and grab some dinner, so I make my calls.

The first is to Bella, but since it's dinner time for her and Sam, she doesn't stay on the phone long. She promises to stay up if I want to call later. My next call is to Seth, and all he wants to talk about is the house they've found in Seattle. I know Ang has been house-hunting online, but somehow, hearing this makes the move feel real. And the reality is like a punch in the gut. As much as I enjoy hearing my little man excited about something, it's hard to swallow his excitement about moving away next year. With a promise to find something "really cool" to bring back for him, I hang up.

As I head for the door to hit the vending machines for some drinks, a knock sounds.

"E! You ready to go grab some grub?" Boomer shouts through the hollow steel separating my room from the outside.

I twist the knob and pull. "Yeah, I'm ready. Lead the way."

A couple of the guys take off for the Molly Hatchet concert, and the rest of us meet up with another chapter of Outcasts. Along with Skunk, Ice, and a few other boys from Mississippi, we end up pretty much taking over one of the local watering holes. And when I wake the next morning, bleary-eyed and hungover, I realize I spent a good portion of my night drunk texting my girl all the dirty things I want to do to her when I get home.

The photos she texted me in reply are spank bank material I immediately put to use.

* * *

Vendors of all kinds, drag races, Evel Knievel-style motorcycle jumps, tattoo and beard competitions, more food and drink than I'm used to ingesting, and a 5k a couple of the guys participate in fill the days of the week. The concerts scheduled—Smashmouth, Buckcherry, and Jackyl, to name a few—are some of the highlights for me. And while the scenery is nice—the surrounding natural landscape and the girls walking around in what's barely considered decent—I'm anxious to get home.

My FaceTime calls to Bella late at night aren't cutting it. I'm ready to have her back in my arms, to be back in our bed. And watching a few of my brothers indulge in all the sins this week has to offer reminds me of how meaningless my life was before she let me back into hers.

"I miss you," I admit into the phone.

"_Miss you too_." She's sleepy-eyed, curled up in our bed, her nearly-bare shoulders peeking up over the edge of the sheets. "_I'm surprised you're not out there living it up on the last party night. Sunday is just the wrap-up, right? You're leaving Monday morning to come home, aren't you?_"

"Yeah, we'll be on the road bright and early Monday. But I wasn't feeling it tonight. I grabbed dinner with a few of the guys, but they wanted to hit the bars, and I just wasn't in the mood."

She giggles.

"What?"

"_You're starting to sound like an old man, Edward. You really should've gone out with them. Just order a beer and nurse it. It's not like you have to keep up with Tank._" Her giggles are uncontrollable.

"Laugh it up, woman. You know he didn't earn that name for nothing. Not only is he built like a tank, the man can drink just about anyone under the table. Did I ever tell you—"

A knock echoes loudly through the room.

"_Who's at your door this late?_" Bella asks me.

"I have no fucking idea." I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and grab my jeans, pulling them up over my hips but not bothering to button or zip them. "Whoever it is, they're about to get my foot up their ass." I make a face into the camera on my phone, and Bella's smile is worth looking like an idiot.

When I pull my door open, I'm met with an anxious-looking Boomer. "Hey, man. Carl needs us. Some Kingsmen decided to finally show up. The New Mexico chapter."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"_Edward?_" Bella's voice snaps me out of my momentary panic. I look down at the phone in my hand, and her worried eyes stare back at me. "_Is everything okay?_" she asks.

"Everything's fine." I look up at Boomer and back to my phone. "But it looks like I'm headed out after all."

She must be able to read the concern on my face. "_Call me when you get back in tonight, okay? No matter what time it is_."

"I will. But I gotta go." I turn around, heading for my discarded shirt lying on the bed. Boomer follows me inside, closing the door behind him.

"_Okay. I love you_," she says.

"Love you, too, baby." I disconnect the call and toss my phone onto the bed, turning to Boom as I slide my tee over my head. "How many? And do we know any of them?"

He shakes his head. "None of them look familiar to me, but Carl acted like he recognized a few."

"Dammit. That means they probably know Caius."

"That's why we need all of us down there, just in case shit goes down."

I snag my cut off the desk chair in the corner and slip my arms through it before grabbing my gun from my pack. I check the safety and stick it in the back of my jeans as I turn to face Boomer. "Lead the way."

The pub is crowded, noisy, and as rowdy as you'd expect for the last party night of the event. People are squeezing in their final bit of fun for the week, but there's also some tension in the air. When Boomer and I walk through the room, past the small group of Kingsmen sitting at a high top, the chatter and commotion quiet. Most of the patrons barely notice. But we do. We don't stop to acknowledge it, instead we continue toward the back of the room where Pop and the rest of the guys have taken over an entire section. We've also been joined by our Mississippi chapter brothers. And from the outside, it looks like they're ignoring the Kingsmen in the room.

But I know differently. All but a few of us are on point, watching and waiting for the assholes to start something.

Tank and Hawk are playing darts with Skunk and Ice. My new buddy, our prospect Tyler, is playing wingman to Buzz. They're hovering near a table of girls who seem to find them amusing. Tracker is entertaining _two_ ladies all on his own at a table in the corner. And Pop, Jazz, and Mac are huddled together with a few of the other Mississippi Outcasts, beers in hand and girls on their laps.

It's a sight I'm used to seeing. Hell, it's almost a given that Pop will indulge in the local offerings while we're on a run or on the road, but it always bugs the shit out of me when I see Jazz chat up a girl. I rarely say anything, though. When we go home, it's forgotten. Bella was right about one thing: What happens on a run stays there.

I don't have to like it, and I'm certainly not joining in this time around.

Tracker is the first to notice my arrival. "E! Where've you been, man? I was just telling these lovely ladies about you."

"Oh, really?" I motion for a server, pointing to the longneck another patron is sipping on. She nods and disappears toward the bar. I take a seat at Tracker's table, which happens to be right beside Pop's. "And what were you telling them?"

"Just that you've been known to party it up on the last night and give this town a proper sendoff." Tracker grins and turns his attention to the blonde under his arm, running his nose up her neck before nipping at her skin. He looks back at me, his eyes glassy. "And this lovely lady"—he tips his head toward the brunette at his other side—"would love some company tonight."

The lady in question rises from her seat and settles onto my lap. "Hey, handsome."

"Hello." The waitress interrupts, placing my beer on the table in front of me. But before I can thank her, the brunette swipes it and takes a swig. "By all means, help yourself," I quip, amused by her already.

"Thanks." She places the bottle back on the table and turns back to me, leaning in close. "Name's Harper."

"E," I reply.

Her eyes roam the patches on my cut. "A VP already? You seem awfully young to have moved up so quick."

"Guess I'm a quick learner."

Her gaze returns to my cut, lingering just a little too long on my brother's memorial patch. "Well, E, you may be young, but it looks like you've seen a lot already." Her fingers trail along the worn edges of my leather, and her eyes snap up to mine. "Maybe I can still show you a thing or two, though."

I'm not even considering finding out what she could show me, but it doesn't mean I'm not intrigued. She's older than the typical girls who seek out company at the rally, and she's obviously confident. In another time and place, I might have taken her up on what she's offering, but I'm not the same guy I was just a handful of months ago.

"I'm sure you could," I finally reply, "but I'm not so sure my old lady would appreciate that."

She raises a brow. "She'd never know."

"But _I_ would."

A slow, pretty smile covers her face, and she leans in close. "I hope she knows she's got one of the good ones."

A corner of my mouth rises in a lopsided grin. "I do, too."

She kisses my cheek. "Have fun tonight, even if I could have shown you a better time." Giggling, she slips from my lap and whispers into her friend's ear before taking off for her next target.

"You sure you wanna pass that up?" Tracker asks.

"I'm sure." I reach for my bottle and take a swig, watching Harper sidle up next to Skunk. Up until now, he had been standing on the sidelines watching the guys play darts. He eats up Harper's attention.

Meanwhile, Ice, the one who hasn't had much luck with the ladies all week, scowls in their direction.

"What's his deal?" I ask Tracker, pulling him away from the girl in his lap.

"Who?"

"Ice. Dude looks like he wants to punch a motherfucker."

"Ass probably needs to get laid."

The girl in his lap giggles. "Harper told me he came on to her when we got here." She leans over the table, lowering her voice. "But I don't think he's her type."

"Clearly," I mumble, taking another swig. I scan the room, watching for any trouble, but still trying to look interested in being here. It doesn't take long for my disinterest to invite more company, but this time, it's Ice.

"Looks like we both got shot down," he says as he takes the empty seat beside me.

"Shot down?" I raise a brow.

"That little piece that's hanging all over Skunk," Ice says, pointing a beefy finger toward his club brother and the brunette. He turns his attention back to me. "She shot you down, too, huh?"

The corner of my mouth lifts, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop the grin from spreading. "Something like that."

He shrugs a shoulder. "Something else'll come along."

Before I can even begin to respond, a commotion from the front of the pub gets my attention. A few of the Kingsmen have moved to the bar, mere feet away from where the rest of us are. It's a bold move, considering how many of us there are compared to the half-dozen of them.

Sturgis is a relatively neutral zone. Always has been. While none of _us_ are looking to start anything, we have no idea what _their_ intentions are. But we'll sure as hell defend ourselves if it comes down to it.

Ice leans in close, lowering his voice. "Carl told us you guys had some trouble with their Arizona chapter," he says, nodding toward the group at the bar. "You think they'll try to start shit?"

My eyes stay fixed on the group as I answer. "They might." I take another sip from my beer and look back at Ice. "You and your crew have our backs if shit goes down?"

Ice cracks his knuckles and grins. "You know it."

One of the Kingsmen steps away from the bar and approaches Pop's table. "Heard you had some trouble with our brothers in Tucson." His voice floats over the noise of the bar, and the din on our side of the room quiets to a low hum.

"You could say that," Pop says, leaning back. He slaps the ass of the girl who's been sitting on his lap and whispers in her ear, sending her away before turning back to the uninvited guest. "But it looks like they got mixed up in some nasty business. It's a shame." He shakes his head in mock sympathy. "A whole chapter, poof"—he snaps his fingers—"gone, just like that."

"I don't guess you know anything about that, do you?"

"Not a thing. It made the local papers, but we don't get too many details out in the sticks." His grin is wide, condescending.

He points to an empty chair at Pop's table. "You mind?"

"Be my guest."

"Rumor is a few people saw a few riders in town that night who didn't belong," the Kingsman says, looking around at all of us. "But you don't know anything about that either, do you?"

Pop shakes his head. "Sorry, man. I can't help ya. The county sheriff even came down to question us, and we gave him all the information we could. We're helpful citizens that way," he says, his grin still firmly in place.

The Kingsman crosses his arms over his chest and chuckles. "Funny thing is, we met up with a few of our friends from Vegas. They know a guy who had a totally different story to tell. Seems like the Arizona chapter president has been sniffing around to patch into the Kingsmen's Nevada chapter."

"I don't know what to tell ya, man. If you heard anything different, maybe you should consider your source." Pop's grin slips, replaced with a glare. "You heard from a guy who knows a guy." He shakes his head. "Look, we all know how dangerous a game of telephone can be. And whatever issue we had with the Arizona chapter is long gone." His grin returns. "Dead and buried, you might say. In fact"—he leans forward, lowering his voice—"you might want to question your source about_ why_ someone would come after an entire chapter."

Pop grits his teeth. "My son's body was found in a ditch with the Kingsmen's calling card carved into his face. Not to mention, my son's _widow_, the mother of my grandson, had to fend off not _one_ but _two_ attackers. She lost a baby the first time. So, it just _might_ have been about more than territory and the product they were moving."

Pop's words bring the dude up short, and he leans back in his chair. "I ... I hadn't heard that bit of information. That changes things."

"Thought it would. You might want to give your friends in Nevada a call and fill them in on the liability they'd be taking on. It would be a shame for a club to pay for the sins of a new member."

With a handshake and an understanding, the Kingsman and his brothers take off, leaving my brothers to their debauchery. The ladies who have been entertaining a few of the guys finally settle on their targets, and one by one, they disappear for the night. I watch Pop leave with the tiny brunette who can't be more than twenty-five, but Jazz, Mac, Boomer, and I all leave solo, heading back to our rooms alone.

Calling Bella back when I get to my room is just enough to calm the storm brewing inside me.

Now that we know Caius Volturi is out there, looking for backup to finish the shit he started, the fears I've had for the last three months all bubble to the surface. I can't get home to her soon enough.

* * *

**A/N: For those of you in my FB group all wound up about Harper ... see, she wasn't so bad. Can't blame a girl for trying! Lol. BTW, Harper was inspired by my prereader, BitterHarpy, so she couldn't be a bad girl. ;) Anyway, E knows what's waiting for him back at home, and he's not going to risk it. How are we feeling about the news on Caius and his whereabouts? I'd love to hear what you're thinking. **

*****POSTING SCHEDULE CHANGE*** School starts Monday for my kiddos, and I'll have one doing virtual classes and one with a hybrid schedule ... and I'll be playing taxi three days a week to avoid the bus. So, since we'll be adjusting to a new and slightly more hectic schedule, I'll be skipping posting next week. Chapter 31 of Clutch will post on Tuesday, September 1. I'm still debating if I'll be keeping a weekly posting schedule or posting every two weeks. My banked chapters are down to a few, so I'll see how it goes. But I'll definitely keep you all in the loop. As I said last chapter, be sure to read the fine print in the A/Ns. ;) **

**Remember, you can come chat with me in my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. It's the very best way of keeping in touch with me. I also share teasers and chapter pics there. You can also follow me on Twitter at CSunshine1220. **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

**Songs:**

**All I Want, Staind  
****Walk With Me, Pearl Jam and Neil Young, live  
****Nothing's Fair In Love And War, Three Days Grace  
****A Gentleman's Coup, Rise Against  
****Godspeed, The Chicks  
****Someday, Godsmack  
****Going Through Changes, Eminem**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter one.**

* * *

***Fiddling was had. All mistakes are mine.**

* * *

**Edward **

I pull out the last stack of cash from the safe in my room at the clubhouse and throw it into my pack, adding it to my cut from our run for García. Part of me wants to toss the latter in Pop's face, to tell him to take the fucking money and shove it up his ass, but another part of me realizes I may need the cash to get my family out of here.

Only time will tell if it comes to that, but I want to be ready if it does.

I swing the door closed on the now-empty safe and punch the code to lock it, then I look around the room, noticing the thin layer of dust on everything. Lately, this place hasn't held the same appeal that it did just a few weeks ago. Aside from the couple of times I've popped in for a quick shower after work or to get some shuteye after a run, I've spent all my downtime at home.

Home.

The thought of it makes me smile. I've been away from my girl and our boys for almost two weeks already, and I'm more than ready to get back to them.

I don't waste any time, quickly gathering a few of the personal items I've kept here and adding them to my bag. Then I step into the hallway, locking my room behind me.

"You headed out?" Pop calls from the sofa in the center of the main room, his house favorite seated on his lap.

I hoist the strap of my pack higher on my shoulder as I walk toward the door. "Yeah."

"You should stick around. Sleep off the trip before goin' home."

I shake my head. "Nah. I only get Seth for one more week before he heads to Seattle with Ang, and I want to spend some time with him."

"He's coming back for school, though, isn't he?"

I nod. "He'll be back a few days before school starts."

"Good," he says with a nod. "You should bring him by. Let him spend some time with Grandpa before he leaves."

I scoff internally, but I'm too tired to argue with him. "We'll see."

"Don't forget church tomorrow night," he shouts as I turn to walk away. "We still need to figure out what that dumb fuck Caius is up to."

I nod but don't turn back. I say my goodbyes as I go, finally stepping outside. As I fire up my bike, my insides start to hum with excitement about seeing Bella. And it's not even about sex, although I'm sure as fuck planning on that tonight. No, just the thought of having her in my arms, in my bed, is enough to make me fucking ache to hold her.

I'm turning into a goddamn pussy.

The closer I get to home, the stronger the feelings get, and I don't even care that I feel like a chick. The porch light shines in the darkness, and there's a single light glowing in the front window. I'm almost certain she's left them on for me.

The house is all but dark when I walk in, the lone lamp in the living room the only light on, but I don't need it to guide me. I disarm the alarm and drop my things by the door, resetting the alarm before making my way down the hall.

My first stop is at Seth's door, peeking in and seeing what I usually do—both boys asleep. Their beach towels are strewn across the floor, and the whole room smells like sunscreen and chlorine, so I know they spent their evening splashing around in the pool.

Seth is half hanging out of his bed, and Sam is sprawled out on a pile of folded blankets on the carpet. We should probably look into bunk beds, so Sam has somewhere to sleep other than the floor. After making sure they're tucked in and turning off the TV, I close the door and head for our room.

When I crack open the door, I'm expecting to see her asleep in our bed, but I find empty sheets. I'm confused for all of two seconds until I hear the shower running. With a grin, I toss my cut on the bed and pull my t-shirt over my head. I unbutton my jeans and drop them to the floor as I step out of them and walk toward the bathroom.

Bella's naked body is half-hidden by the swirling steam and condensation built up on the glass, but what I _can_ see is enough to have my dick already standing at attention. Needless to say, I waste no time joining her.

A guy could get used to these homecomings.

* * *

"These are awesome, Dad!" Seth's eyes are lit up, and I know he digs the shit I picked up for him and Sam.

Hats and tees, pins and patches, the boys each get a stash of crap I picked up throughout the week. Seth has a new stack of patches from our support clubs to add to his junior-sized slickback. And seeing the wonder-filled expression on Sam's face, I know I need to pick up one for him. I'm a little surprised Masen never got one for his son. Thankfully, I have a stack of patches for Sam, too, he just doesn't know it yet.

I look over at Bella, and she's idly playing with the Black Hills gold dreamcatcher necklace that now adorns her neck.

"_It's to catch all your bad dreams, so the good, new ones we have come true_," I told her last night as I put it around her neck. She'd tackled me, showing me just how appreciative she was of her gift.

I'd say it was a hit.

"What do you say, Sam?" Bella gently prods.

"Thanks, Uncle E!" Sam climbs up into my lap and wraps his arms around my neck. "They're awesome!"

I chuckle, squeezing him before releasing him to go back to go through his bag of goodies. "You're welcome. Maybe someday you guys can go with me ... see it for yourselves."

"Really?" Sam asks, his eyes huge as saucers. "On a bike like yours?"

"Sure. If it's something you want to do."

"I gottsa be in the club, though, right?"

I smile and shake my head. "Only if you want to be, Sam."

Seth's quiet, eyeing his cousin and me.

"What's up, son?"

His cautious eyes meet mine. "Mom said she doesn't want me to ride when I grow up."

"She did?" I ask, suddenly feeling like I need to speak to my son's mother.

He nods his head. "Yeah. She doesn't want me on a bike. Says they're dangerous and the club isn't what she wants me to do. She said if I go to school, I can be important, get a good job and make a lot of money like Ben."

I grit my teeth and try to calm myself down before I snap at Seth for something his mother said. I've always done my best where Seth is concerned, always put him first. And at the end of the day, to know Angela thinks _so highly_ of me and my life choices grinds on my nerves.

Bella must sense my irritation. She reaches over to take my hand, glancing at me before she turns to my son. "Your mom wants what's best for you, Seth. And she's right, going to school _is_ important. But you have a long time to think about what kind of job you want when you're all grown up. You should be able to make all your dreams come true, be whatever you want to be, and you're the one who gets to decide what that is. If you need to go to school to make it happen, then you'll go."

I clear my throat and lean forward, ready for this particular conversation to be over. "Bella's right. And when you're an adult, _you_ can decide if you want to ride or not, okay? Your mom and I only want what's best for you."

When the boys gather up all their shit and run to their rooms, Bella rests her head on my shoulder and sighs. "I don't understand why she'd say those things to him."

I stare at our intertwined fingers, still thinking about what Angela said to my son and wondering if there might be a shred of truth to it.

She looks up at me, her eyes narrowed. "She's wrong, Edward."

When I don't reply, Bella huffs a breath and sits up, turning to face me fully. "You work hard, and you've always provided for Seth. Just because you didn't go to college to get a degree doesn't mean what you do is any less important than what the next guy does. And as far as the club is concerned ..." She hesitates and then lowers her voice. "I know you've done things ... You've hurt people, but I know it's never been for the wrong reasons." She climbs into my lap, straddling me. My hands land on her hips, steadying her as she settles over me and rests her hands on my chest. "You've always protected what's yours, whether it was your family, your friends, or your town." She shrugs a shoulder. "I don't think there are many things more noble than that."

"You really think that?"

"I do. Yes," she says with a sigh, "some of the shit you guys pull is childish and ridiculous macho bullshit, but at the end of the day, you look out for the ones close to you." She leans in, her lips hovering close to mine. "And I love you for it."

* * *

"How the fuck are we supposed to know what to do next if we don't know where he is?"

Tensions are high around the table tonight. We all want Caius dead, but without knowing where he is, it's hard to make that happen.

"We send word to our chapters up north to keep an eye out for him," Pop says. "They got lazy, which is something I'll make sure they know I'm not happy about. But maybe with a kick in the ass, they'll do what they said they'd do."

"And in the meantime?" I clench my jaw, biting down on the toothpick in my mouth so hard it cracks between my teeth.

"In the meantime, we keep our eyes open. After talking with those boys in Sturgis, I'm sure word will get back to their Nevada chapter. If people know what kind of trouble he's bringing with him, there's no way he'll find any club to let him in. It wouldn't be worth the risk to take on a liability like that. I don't think we have anything to worry about. And eventually, he'll turn up."

When the gavel falls and we finally adjourn, I head for the door with Jazz following right behind me.

"You my shadow now?" I ask as I push through the door.

He's quiet as we sit at the picnic table, lighting up a cigarette and inhaling before I can even get the wrapper off the new pack of gum from my pocket. He exhales the smoke through his nose and jerks his chin in my direction. "What's with you and the toothpicks and gum lately?"

"Tryin' to quit."

"Yeah? Since when?"

"Since Sammy's living with me. I've never smoked in the house, but since he's with me all the time, I don't want him around the shit. He gets enough of it when he's around the rest of the family."

"Good for you." He's fidgeting, thrumming his fingers on the table, practically vibrating in place.

"What's with you?" I ask, popping a piece of gum in my mouth. "You pick up crabs in Sturgis or something?"

He shakes his head, taking another drag on his cigarette. "No, asshole. You know I don't fuck around. Might like to look, but I don't bring that shit home to my wife."

"Then why do you look like you're trying to climb outta your skin?"

"Ali made an appointment with a fertility doc while I was gone." He looks at me. "They're booked pretty far out, but she has an appointment in December."

"That's great, man. Even if it doesn't pan out, it's a first step. Once you know what you're working with you can go from there." I shrug, not entirely sure what I said is correct, but it sounds good ... encouraging.

"Yeah. I'm just nervous, you know? If they suggest in vitro or something, I'm not sure how we're gonna pay for it. I'm not sure I've saved enough."

"If you haven't, you come to me, to Pop. You know we'll help out."

"Thanks."

"That's what family's for, man."

He bobs his head in a nod before glancing toward the door to the clubhouse and back to me. "You and Carl seem okay."

I raise a brow. "He's still the one at the head of the table, Jazz. We both know how this works."

"Doesn't mean you have to like it."

"And I don't. I just hope whatever shit he's planning to do for García doesn't take our attention away from what Volturi is up to. We gotta stay focused on finding that fucker."

He stares down at his still-fidgeting fingers until he finally he looks up, lowering his voice. "I, uh, I went home and looked through some old paperwork. Found some of my old stubs, end of year shit and whatnot." His eyes narrow as he tilts his head. "Man, I started getting some pretty healthy bonuses after Ali and me got hitched."

Thinking about the bullshit Esme's pulled has me itching to grab a smoke from Jazz's pack, but I refrain. "You and me both, man."

"You think she's been shorting anyone else around here?"

"I have no idea. And I'm not sure I'm ready to open that can of worms."

"Why not? If she has been ... You need to talk to everyone. And even if she's not ... E, that shit ain't right."

I'm pretty sure he wants to say more, but something catches his attention over my shoulder. "What the fuck does he want?"

I turn around and spot good old Charlie Swan pulling into the lot.

"Looks like it's our lucky day," I grumble as I swivel around on the bench, leaning back and resting my elbows on the tabletop behind me. "What can we do for you, Chief?" I shout as he steps out of his cruiser.

"Your old man here?"

"He is. This business, or do we have a problem?" I ask.

"I'll go get him," Jazz says as he gets up and walks inside.

"Business," Charlie replies, walking toward me. "A friend of a friend had some interesting news for me."

"That so? Do I know this friend?"

"Let's wait for Carl."

Waiting on Pop to show his face is an agonizing few minutes, and as I stare up at the man, I have nothing but _disdain_ for him, for so many reasons.

I know how Charlie treated Bella over the years, even after she and I were together. It angers me almost more today than it did back then. To treat your own flesh and blood so badly ... it did and still does make me sick. But in a lot of ways, I'm familiar with that kind of treatment—the kind that made a kid feel like they were unwanted, unloved. Watching how my parents treated my brother shaped how I've raised my own son ... and how I plan to help Bella raise Sam.

Neither of those boys will ever know what it's like to feel unwanted or unloved.

"So, I hear my daughter and my grandson are shacking up with you?"

I stop chewing, my jaw tensing as I nod slowly. "They've moved in with me, yes."

"You know that's a bad idea, Cullen."

I furrow my brow. "Why the fuck would I care what you think?"

"I still care about what happens to my daughter and her son."

I give him my "fuck you" smile and shake my head. "You sure as shit have a funny way of showing it."

Before he can respond, Pop walks outside, Mac and Jazz right behind him. "What's up, Charlie? We got some kind of problem?"

Charlie's posture immediately changes. He straightens his back and squares his shoulders. "You tell me. I just got off the phone with a friend. Said you had a job while you were away. Any truth to that?"

I purse my lips and look up at the asshole. For the eight years I've been part of this club, Charlie has been our connection to García. He's the one who approached Pop with the deal we made back then, the one who set up our first meeting with him, the one who still gets a cut of every run we make for García.

Until this one.

"We might have made an extra stop for our friend, but it has nothing to do with the arrangement we have with you," Pop says.

"Oh, I beg to differ." Charlie chuckles, low and menacing, as he takes a step toward Pop, his grin as superficial as the badge he wears.

As he steps closer to Pop, Mac and Jazz close in and I rise to my feet, ready to jump between them if Charlie decides to pull something. I catch the chief's eye, and he wisely stops.

"Carl, we've been friends for a long time," Charlie begins, "and we've seen a lot of shit happen. I've always had an eye out for you, for your club, for your family, and I've never asked for very much in return." He takes another step toward Pop, and I take one more myself. His voice lowers, and I could swear I see his fingers flex over his sidearm. "But we both know you'd be nothing but two-bit thugs without me."

"Is that so?" Pop asks him. "And you'd be what? Sitting behind a desk, pushing paper and arresting supermarket shoplifters?" Pop steps into Charlie's space, his face mere inches away from the chief's. "You'd be living your life to collect the meager pension of a small-town cop when you're old and grey. So, don't come to me and tell me we'd be nothing without you, because we both know _you'd_ be nothing without _us_."

Pop takes a step back and starts to walk away, but Charlie isn't quite done with him yet.

"You only have an arrangement with García because of me, Carl. I deserve a cut of whatever he paid you to move that shit."

Pop stops and turns around, tilting his head as if he's considering it then shakes it, barking out a laugh. "No, I don't think you do. Contrary to what you think, not everything we do earns you a piece of the pie, _Chief_. So, we'll just stick to the original arrangement."

Before Pop can make it back inside, Charlie shouts, "I'm sure Pima County would love for my department to accommodate them while they come and take a look around town." Pop's retreating form comes to a halt. My father slowly turns on his heel, and Charlie keeps running his mouth. "They've been crawling up my ass about wanting to come into town and take a closer look. So far, I've been able to put them off, reassure them that everything here checked out, that your alibis were good." He shrugs a shoulder. "But maybe this _small town cop_ missed something."

"You think you're one clever son of a bitch, don't you?" Pop rushes at Charlie, getting right back in his face. "Don't fuck with me, friend. You won't like where it leads."

"I want my cut."

Pop ponders it for a moment, his narrowed eyes locked on the piece of shit in front of him. "If that's what it takes for you to go away, then I guess that's what I have to do. Jazz," he says over his shoulder, his eyes not leaving Charlie, "go get Tank. Looks like our treasurer needs to make a withdrawal."

* * *

It's late, way past the usual time I get home, and when I walk inside the house, it's quiet. I'm sure Bella and the boys are already asleep, so I take a few minutes to double-check the locks before ducking into the garage.

I pull out the box of old paperwork I've already been through a dozen times, looking at numbers and adding up the extra thousands I was paid over the years in the form of bonuses. For close to a decade, I thought the extra cash I got was for the hard work I put in at the shop. But now that I know Jazz was paid more after he married Ali, I can only assume it was Mom making sure her own kids were taken care of. To her, it was probably more about sticking it to Masen than rewarding my work ethic.

I sit back on my heels and look around at what I have. The house I was able to buy a few years ago because I saved all the extra for a down payment, the car I was able to fully restore, even the newer bike I ride—I don't have to wonder that I've only been able to get as far as I have in part because of the money my mother siphoned off my brother.

* * *

Sending Seth to his mother for a two-week visit is hard, even knowing he'll be coming back to start school soon. Watching him walk through the security gate at the airport with Angela makes my stomach clench. One day soon, he won't be returning in two weeks. Bella reminds me he'll only be a plane ride away, and even then, we don't have to worry about it for almost another year.

The two weeks Seth is gone pass quickly, and the beginning of September means the start of school for the boys. It's a rough few weeks in the beginning, trying to coordinate drop off and pick up times and organize daycare for the kids. But we manage to find a routine.

October brings Halloween, and the boys have a blast trick-or-treating as Captain America and Iron Man. Seth uses probably half my data FaceTiming with his mother as we walk the neighborhood, but his wide smile makes it worth it.

I know he misses her. And for a brief moment, I feel like a shit father for keeping him away from his mother.

"He's your son, too," Bella reminds me. "You deserve to have this time with him."

The first weekend in November we have a small birthday party for Sam. Jazz and Ali, Mac and Rose, Boomer and Maggie all show, along with a few of the boys' friends from school.

I watch Sam as he leads his friends in the games and generally bosses everyone around, since he says it's "his day." Even though he's still a bit smaller than most of his little friends, his personality is larger than life. And other than the rest of the kids having a few inches on him, you'd never know he was born more than a month early. Even the breathing problems he's had since he was born seem to have improved in the last few months.

"I'm seven, Uncle E," my nephew informs me as he hops into my lap, his sticky, icing-covered hands reaching for the cookie on my plate.

I grin down at the wiggly boy in my arms. _"He inherited your love of all things sweet, Mase,"_ I think to myself.

"I know, bud. You've been seven since Monday."

His big brown eyes meet mine. "You think Daddy knows?"

"I'm sure he does, Sam."

"Think they have cake where he is? Daddy loved cake."

"If they do, I'm sure he's having an extra big piece today."

"Maybe I should have another one ... for him, in case they don't."

I lean in close and whisper in his ear. "If your mom doesn't catch you, your secret is safe with me."

He jumps off my lap and tiptoes toward the cake, completely oblivious to Bella watching every step he takes. She turns to me and raises a brow, and I shrug in reply. I have a serious problem telling Sam no, and she knows it.

Trouble is, Sam is beginning to realize it, too.

Thanksgiving is ... interesting. It's the first year I haven't spent it with my parents, but I don't miss it. We host a small group at our place. Mac and Rose, Boomer, Maggie and little Ollie join us, and it's pretty damn perfect. But the most interesting part comes when Mac and Boomer step outside for a smoke.

The girls' chatter quiets as I slide the patio door closed.

"Hey, man. You want?" Boomer asks me as he holds out his pack of cigarettes.

I raise a brow as I sit at my now-larger patio table. "You know I quit, jackass."

"Yeah, but after a big meal like that?" He groans as he sits back and rubs his full belly. "Figured you might make an exception."

"I'm good. But thanks."

Mac reclines in his chair, crossing his beefy arms over his chest as he studies me. "You wanna tell me what's going on with you?"

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugs. "As much as I love that Rosie and me were invited over here, I can't say I wasn't surprised to get that call. You always spend Thanksgiving at your folks' place."

"Yeah, well, Esme hasn't been all that accepting of me being with Bella."

"Ya don't say?" Boom asks from beside me, chuckling. I turn to look at him, a scowl on my face. "What? Don't look at me like that. It's not a secret Esme doesn't like her. She's been a bitch to Bella for years. I don't think any of us were expecting her to change her tune when you two hooked up."

I don't reply. Instead I stare down at the tabletop.

"But there's more to it, isn't there?" Mac asks. "It's more than her not liking B, isn't it?"

I nod once. "You could say that."

"So, what's her deal?" Mac leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. "I heard her whining to Carl last week about not being allowed to see Seth since July, dude. Why have you kept her from seeing him?"

It's my turn to sit back in my chair. "She did something, and I told her until she fixed it, she couldn't see him."

Mac whistles, long and low. "Had to be a major fuck up for you to keep her grandson from her."

I turn to face my friend. "She stole money from Mase the whole time he worked for the shop."

"Stole how?"

"He wasn't paid what we were. I got a look at his paystubs when I was moving shit for Bella. Guys, he was making way less than any of us. He was there almost as long as I have been, and he wasn't being paid nearly what I am. Not to mention yearly bonuses I never paid any attention to."

Boomer pipes in. "Dude, we all get something at the end of the year. Mags usually uses it to buy shit for Christmas dinner."

"And she won't pay it back?" Mac asks.

I shake my head. "She paid back some of it, but she's refusing to pay back the rest."

"How much are we talking?"

I look up at Mac. "It was more than a decade of Christmas dinners, that's for fucking sure."

They stare at me expectantly, and I have no choice but to tell them.

"Tens of thousands, guys. That money could have made all the difference."

"What are you gonna do?" Boomer asks, his eyes bouncing between me and Mac. "Does Carl know?"

"Yes, he fucking knows," I snap.

Mac studies me for a long time before speaking. "And he's doing what he does best; he's letting Esme run the show."

I nod, staring down at the table. "I told him about it months ago, and he didn't do a damn thing."

We're silent then, listening to the boys play inside and the women laugh over their after-dinner wine. Little Oliver's cries break up the girls' chatter, but they're completely unaware of the turmoil happening just beyond the patio doors.

Mac is the first to speak, and when he does, it's something we're all thinking. "Is this something we could bring to the table and put to a vote? Because I'm sure as hell not feeling too confident in Carl as the club's president at the moment. For a man to knowingly let his wife get away with—" He grits his teeth and flexes his fists. "It ain't right, man. Not only was Masen Carl's son, he was our brother. If anyone else did something like that to one of us, we'd go after him, E. You can't say the rest of the club doesn't have a right to know."

"You're right." I finally look up at Mac. "But now that we're running shit for Garcia, it's not exactly a good time to change management."

"When will it be? When he does something to one of us? I don't trust him, E. And now isn't the time to have a lack of faith in the club president."

Boomer clears his throat. "I gotta agree with E, Mac. There are too many balls in the air to shake things up too much. And it sounds like the rest of it is family drama." He glances at me, and I nod my head. "As much as we hate it, we should probably just leave it alone for now. Once we get through a few more runs for García and things settle down, we can bring it up. But for now, maybe leaving well enough alone is better."

Mac's eyes haven't left me, and it makes me squirm. "What?"

"Are you even sticking around?" he asks, his head tilted.

"Why would I—"

He points toward the house. "That boy of yours is going back to his mother at some point, and I know it's gonna kill you to be away from him."

I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. "Bella and I have talked about it."

Mac leans forward and lowers his voice. "All I'm gonna say is starting over somewhere new wouldn't be a horrible thing." His eyes flash from me to Boomer and back again. "And if Carl won't step down when the time comes, it wouldn't be a bad move for any us."

* * *

When we skipped out on Thanksgiving at Mom and Pop's, my sister _and_ mother went ballistic. I got call after call from Mom crying a sob story about family and tradition and missing Seth. There was no mention of Sam or any talk about apologizing or repaying Bella in any of her messages. After all that, Alice pretty much bullied me into telling her what Mom pulled on our brother and how she's treated Bella. Needless to say, my sister was appalled.

"I can't believe she'd do that," she'd said. "How did she think she'd get away with it?"

"I don't know. But she's digging her heels in on it."

"Well, I'm not going to pretend everything's okay. And if she thinks we're going to their house for Christmas, she's crazy. Here or there, Jazz and I will be spending it with you, Bella, and the boys."

That's how we ended up with the Whitlocks at our place for Christmas dinner.

"So, how did your appointment go?" I ask Alice just before shoveling a forkful into my mouth.

"Good," she says with a nod. "I uh, I have to have a bunch of tests done. Scans and bloodwork and stuff to check for certain things, then we go from there."

"What about you, Jazz?" I ask my brother-in-law. "You gonna be spending some quality time in a tiny room with a paper cup and a dirty magazine?"

"Already have, man." His eyes drift to where his nephews are sitting at the other end of the table before looking back to me, his voice low. "They gotta make sure the gun is loaded, you know?"

"When will you know something?" Bella asks, helping Sam get another scoop of potatoes.

Ali looks over at Jazz and smiles. "Soon, hopefully." She turns back to my girl. "Bloodwork is the easy part, but the other stuff still has to be scheduled. Then we have to wait for another appointment with the specialist to go over all of it. It'll be a little while, I think."

Bella reaches across the table and squeezes Ali's hand. "It'll be worth it."

* * *

We settle into a routine, not only as a family, but also with the club. We make our monthly run for García, Charlie gets his cut, and we all go about our business. Things around town are pretty quiet. We get the occasional call to supply an escort to this or that, even a few private requests for protection and intimidation, but it's all par for the course, and things stay relatively quiet.

After the disaster that was Christmas, Mom stays out of my way, even if she pushes her luck asking about Seth. I avoid her questions and pleas to see him, all in an attempt to show her I mean business. It's been more than six months, and I know it's slowly killing her to not see her grandson.

I couldn't give a fuck less. Her actions are directly connected to the reasons my brother was killed, and I can't let that shit go.

Angela calls in early March to tell us her doctor wants to schedule an induction the following week, so we decide to hightail it to Washington. It's almost the boys' spring break anyway, so we plan to make a small vacation out of it.

It's cold as fuck when we land, the mist and chill of March not what I was expecting. I grumble almost the entire time, but Bella doesn't say anything. She just smiles and shakes her head when I bitch about how cold it is up here.

She curls into my side as we walk to the car rental place at the airport. "It just means we'll have to snuggle closer together while we're here." She looks up at me and her eyes twinkle. "I'm sure we can find a few ways to get warm."

Yeah, that shuts me up.

Ben and Angela's house is ... fucking huge. I've always known the dude makes bank as a software designer, but I never expected _this_. Their new place sits off the road and looks like two houses, side by side, with a walkway between them over the driveway.

"It's a mother in-law suite over the garage," Ben explains as he walks up the exterior staircase leading to where we'll be staying. He opens the door, waving us through. "So, there's a full kitchen, a bathroom, a separate bedroom." He shrugs a shoulder. "We figured there was no sense in you staying in a hotel when we'd need you here for Seth while we're at the hospital."

"Thanks, man." I reach out and shake his hand. "I appreciate it."

I spend the evening with Bella and Sam, leaving Seth to spend time with his mom before she leaves for the hospital in the morning. We all pile into the bed with a borrowed laptop, looking online for things to do while we're here. Sam points at just about everything he sees, excited to see new sights, do new things. Needless to say, our list is long.

The following day we take the boys to a local park, and I get a look at what life in suburbia is like. Moms and their minivans and SUVs full of kids, dads on play dates—it's nothing like our life back in Arizona. I have to wonder if I could live this life ... move to a place like this and not feel like I have to trade in my leather and wrench for chinos and a computer. Hell, maybe I could be the friendly neighborhood mechanic. Bella, on the other hand, looks right at home. Her soft smile while she watches the kids play is enough to make me think I might be able to do it.

The sun sets and rises before we get the call to come to the hospital. Leah Cheney has finally made her appearance, and my little boy is officially a big brother.

As he holds his little sister, his smile lights up the damn room. It makes me want to give him a reason to smile that big ... a sibling that carries his last name. When I look over to Bella, the look on her face when our eyes meet tells me we just might want the same thing.

* * *

**A/N: Lots covered in this chapter. I'd love to hear what you think!**

**The winners of the Golden Onion Awards were announced last night! The banner for Clutch won two second-place awards, and Dominion of My Heart won third place Best Nail-Biting Fic. Thank you to all who voted for me!**

**My kids' crazy school schedule is proving to be a rough adjustment. I'll do my best to maintain weekly updates, but at this point, I can't promise that will happen. The best way to be in the know is to follow my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. **

"**See" you soon! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

**Songs:**

**Hard To See, Five Finger Death Punch  
****I Blame You, 10 Years  
****Locked & Loaded, Godsmack **

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter one.**

* * *

****PLEASE READ A/N BELOW FOR POSTING SCHEDULE CHANGE!****

***Medical information contained in this chapter was found online and interpreted to the best of my understanding. ;)**

* * *

**Edward**

"I am so fucking wiped," I grouse as we schlep toward Bella's SUV.

"So am I, but we're on the home stretch. One more leg and we're home." She reaches up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. "We can sleep in our own bed tonight and have all of tomorrow before we're back to real life on Monday."

I groan. "Do we have to go back to real life?" As we near the car, I press the button on the key fob to unlock the doors. The boys run ahead, obviously getting a second wind now that we're so close to home. "Slow down!" I shout before turning to Bella. "Do they ever stop?"

She chuckles. "They're just excited to get home. They've also been trapped on an airplane for three hours." She grabs my hand and pulls me the final twenty feet or so. "Come on, E. I'll drive, and you can sleep." She leans in close, whispering. "I need you to be well rested."

I smirk and shake my head, loading the bags and suitcases into the back while Bella helps the boys get situated. When everything is loaded, I slide into the passenger seat and look over to her as she adjusts the mirrors. "You sure you're okay to drive home?"

"I'm fine. It's not that far." She starts the engine, switches on the radio, and adjusts the thermostat before turning to me. "Maybe you can check messages and voicemails while I drive and make sure we haven't missed anything."

"Yeah, I can do that." I grab her phone first, turning off airplane mode, and while I do the same to mine, hers starts pinging with all the messages we missed since we flew out of Seattle this afternoon. "Well, well, aren't you Ms. Popular?" The second the words leave my lips, my phone starts doing the same.

"Does that make us the 'It Couple'?" she asks with a giggle.

"Shit," I mutter, scrolling through the texts on my phone. There are more than a dozen messages from my sister, and when I start reading, the desire to hop on a plane and take the first flight to anywhere but here is strong.

"What's wrong?" Bella asks.

I heave a sigh and open my contacts to call Alice. "I don't think tomorrow is going to be a lazy day. Just drive. We've got a mess waiting for us at home."

* * *

If we had known the epic shitstorm we were walking into when we got home, Bella and the boys and I would have stayed in Washington.

"How could she do that, Edward? How could she lie to us for so long? My entire _life_ has been a lie!" Alice dissolves into Jazz's arms and cries.

I lean forward, not letting go of Bella's hand. "We knew Mom had secrets." I hesitate to press her on it, but I need to know. "Ali, tell me _exactly_ what happened."

She sniffs and nods, wiping her nose on a tissue. "You know how I went to the doctor for all those tests?" I nod and she continues. "They did scans and bloodwork. I got the results back, and we went for the follow-up appointment and set up more visits for other stuff. But last week, one of my co-workers suggested I get copies of all my test results and labs so I would have them for reference, right?"

Again, I nod.

"Well, when I went to pick them up on Friday, I didn't really think too much about it. It wasn't until that night that I even looked at them. And when I did, at the top of my lab report was my blood type." She takes a deep breath and blows it out. "The club has been part of blood drives in the past, so I knew from going to those that Mom and Pop both have negative blood types. How could I be A positive if they're both negative?" Her eyes fill with fresh tears.

I don't remember much from school, but I do remember the weeks we spent my junior year on blood typing. That shit was drilled into my head day after day for almost an entire quarter. But even to someone who doesn't know much about it, everyone knows two negatives don't make a positive.

"What happened when you confronted her?" I ask.

She wipes her eyes and sniffs. "I haven't yet. I don't know what to say to her." Her voice lowers. "And I wanted to wait for you to get home."

I lean back in my seat and take a deep breath, blowing it out and doing my best not to go off on her. But with one look at her, I can see my sister is in a fragile state. "Come on, you can't push this shit on me. _You_ need to talk to her. She needs to be called out on her bullshit for once. And Pop needs to know."

"But if I do ... Edward, there's no coming back from that."

"Ali, she's done so much shit lately ..." I groan, rubbing a hand over my face. "There's no coming back from most of what she's done. But she needs to be put in her place. And you deserve to know the truth."

The expression on her face tears at me. She looks like a scared little girl, drowning in someone else's mistakes. "Will you come with me?"

How can I deny her?

* * *

I haven't stepped foot inside my parents' home in months. I meant what I said to them the day I was here last, that if Mom didn't fess up about what she did to Masen and Bella, we were through. I never dreamed the reason I'd return would be to look for evidence of more deceit.

To anyone else, it might look like a brother and sister reminiscing about the good old days, poring over photo albums and baby books. But really, we're looking for pictures of my sister as a baby, some tangible evidence that she's at least Mom's child.

"Here, I found the right one," Alice says from her spot on the floor. Albums are stacked beside her, but the one in her lap is the one holding photos taken the day she was born, one we haven't looked at in decades. "I guess this answers my question about adoption being a possibility."

I peer over her shoulder and look down to the open page. There in vivid color is an image of Mom in a hospital bed, Pop sitting at her side with me on his lap. Held between them is a tiny, dark-haired bundle I wouldn't mistake for anyone but my sister. It proves that Alice is Esme's child. It's also proof that our mother has been hiding a deep, dark secret for a very long time.

It means that around the same time Elizabeth brought a three-month-old Masen to meet his father, Mom was out revenge fucking ... which resulted in my sister.

"I guess it does."

She looks up at me with a sad smile. "Maybe I was switched at birth and they have no idea?" I make a face. "Yeah, I know," she says with a sigh as she turns her attention back to the photo album. "Wishful thinking on my part."

"Let's just wait and see what Mom has to say."

We sit at the dining room table with Alice's lab results at the ready. I have no idea how my mother is going to react, but I know it won't be pretty. Personally, I can't wait to see the look on her face when she finds out the secrets she's tried to bury have come to light.

The sound of a door slamming closed is followed by our mother's voice. "Alice? Are you here, honey? I saw your car and—" Her words come to an abrupt end when she rounds the corner and sees me. "Edward, baby. It's so good to see you here." She takes a step in my direction with her arms open for a hug, but I hold up my hand.

"We're not here for a social visit."

She looks between Alice and me, and she must sense something is wrong. "What's going on?"

"You might want to take a seat," I offer, pointing to an empty chair.

"I think I'll stand." She looks at my sister. "Alice? What's going on?"

Ali takes a deep breath and blows it out. When her eyes meet mine, I nod my head in encouragement. She looks up at our mother. "I got copies of my test results, and—"

"What is it? Did they find something wrong? I thought you said everything was okay and they were going to start—"

"Everything is fine ... with me."

"Is it Jazz?" Mom reaches out to take Alice's hand, but my sister pulls hers away. "What did they find, Ali? Whatever it is, we'll figure it out. Do you need help paying for it? Is that it?"

"No, that's not it." Alice takes a deep breath, steeling herself. "I got copies of my lab results, and there was something in it that doesn't make any sense to me." She smooths a hand over the paper before sliding it across the tabletop.

Mom picks it up and looks at it, but a crease forms between her brows. "What am I looking at, Alice?" She places the paper back on the table and grips the chair in front of her. "None of that medical crap makes any sense to me. What did they find?"

"My blood type is A positive, Mom. And you and Pop are both negative." Alice's voice is shaky, but she doesn't stutter, and her gaze stays locked on our mother.

"What does that mean? I told you I don't understand medical stuff." Her grip on the chair tightens, and her body is rigid. Her eyes bounce back and forth between Ali and me, and it's the first time I've ever seen my mother not one-hundred percent confident.

"It's impossible for two people with negative blood types to have a child with a positive one."

I watch as the penny drops and all the color drains from my mother's face. "That's ... that's impossible," she murmurs, finally lowering herself into a chair.

"Oh, I can assure you it's not." Alice leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. "Now, do you want to tell me the truth, or will I have to go digging on my own to find out who my father is?"

When Mom remains silent for too long, I slam a hand down on the table, making her jump. "She asked you a question, Esme. I suggest you give her an answer."

"I ... I didn't think ..." She's stock still and silent, and it takes everything in me not to reach across the table and smack some sense into her.

"Who is my father?" Ali asks. "I deserve to know."

It's enough to snap our mother out of her stupor. "You know who your father is," she hisses.

"Clearly not if what this tells me is true," Alice says, pointing to the life-changing lab report. "I want a paternity test."

"What? No!" Mom reaches across the table in another attempt at grabbing Ali's hands, but my sister pulls them into her lap. "You can't tell your father. You can't—."

"He deserves to know." I lean forward on my elbows. "_Alice_ deserves to know. And we won't be keeping this from Pop, so you better figure out what you're going to say to him." My eyes lock on hers, and when I'm certain she's aware of just how serous I am, I continue. "You've got until the end of the week to make that happen."

* * *

The week passes, and as much as I wanted to believe Bella when she said we'd be getting back to normal once we were home, it's anything but. Mom has been quiet, much too quiet at the shop, but I know she hasn't yet confessed to her dirty little secret, because Pop is acting like nothing is wrong.

But the calm doesn't last long.

On Friday, both Pop and Mom are no shows at work. Once I make sure everyone is on task at the shop, I call Ali and we decide to meet at our parents' place to confront them both. But when we pull up to the house, it looks like it won't be necessary.

"Damn," Alice mouths as she steps out of her car.

I swing my leg over my bike and join her on the sidewalk. The yard is littered with bags and clothes, and the front door is wide open. As we walk up the driveway, we can hear Mom begging and pleading. It's drowned out only by Pop's shouting, telling her to leave.

"Looks like she told him," I say.

Alice opens her mouth to reply, but before she can speak, Mom backs out through the door. Pop is looming over her as he pushes her out with his hand wrapped firmly around her bicep.

"Go and don't come back," he spits.

"But, Carl, I—"

"I said go!" He shakes her before releasing her arm, causing her to stumble backwards.

"Where am I supposed to go? I don't have—"

"I don't give a shit, but I don't want to see your face right now! You betrayed me, Esme. You passed off some other bastard's kid as mine for the last twenty-seven years. I ... I can't even look at you."

Pop turns to go back in the house, but Mom's begging turns to rage in the blink of an eye.

"You son of a bitch!" She charges at him, pounding her fists on his back. "You've fucked around on me for years. Years! And I've forgiven you every single time. I slip up _once _in all the years we've been together, and now you're throwing _me_ out? No, Carlisle Cullen, I won't let you do this!"

He spins around and grabs her flailing arms, pinning them to his chest. "You think this is about you fucking someone else?" he growls, his jaw tensed as he inches closer to her face. "This has nothing to do with that. _This _has _everything_ to do with you letting me believe Alice is my daughter ... my blood, while all along you treated _my_ son like trash, made _me_ shut him out." He shakes his head in disbelief. "You have to be out of your fucking mind." He shoves her away and she falls back on her ass. "Don't come back and don't come to work. We're done."

"You can't do this!" She scrambles to her feet. "It was one time ... one mistake! I didn't even know she wasn't yours. You can't hold that against me."

"But you knew it was a possibility she wasn't mine. You had years to tell me, Esme. And it wasn't just one mistake. I've lost track of all the things you've done ... to me, to my son." His stare is hard and cold as he looks down on his wife. "You need to go."

He disappears inside the house, leaving Mom to weep in the front yard. Alice kneels down beside her to help her up, but as I stare at the woman who gave birth to me, I have zero sympathy for her.

"Edward, please," she begs. "Please talk some sense into your father. He can't—" She hiccups as tears continue to roll down her cheeks. "He can't do this."

"I'm pretty sure he can."

"Where am I gonna go?" She turns to Ali. "He can't do this, Alice."

I step closer, but still out of her reach. "You've brought this on yourself."

"How? I've done nothing but try to keep my family together, do what's best for all of you. And this is how he repays me?"

With a malevolent grin on my face, I lean in and whisper in her ear. "Karma's a bitch, ain't it?"

The pathetic wail that escapes her is the sound of all her sins coming back to roost. Unable to stand here and listen to her sobbing, I walk past them in search of my father. When I find him, he's sitting at the head of dining room table, his head in his hands. And if I didn't know better, I'd think he was crying.

"You okay?" I ask.

He looks up, and his expression is one of defeat. "I shouldn't be surprised. She's been hiding shit from me for years."

My head bobs in a nod as I settle into the chair to his left. "Did you really mean all that shit you said out there?"

He raises a brow. "Have I ever said anything I didn't mean?"

"Not that I can remember."

"I meant every word, Edward. If she had told me years ago, when it happened, we could have dealt with it then."

"Would you have stayed with her?"

He tilts his head, contemplating. "I ... I don't know. I'd like to say I would have, but"—his eyes meet mine—"I'm not sure I could have forgiven her."

As I watch him sort through his feelings, I consider what he's just told me.

There's an unspoken rule that what happens on runs stays on runs. Most of the old ladies turn a blind eye to what goes on when the club is on the road. On the other hand, if an old lady steps out on her man, it's unforgivable by most club members' standards. Women are arm candy to a lot of these guys, meant to be paraded and possessed.

I'm struck by just how lopsided our way of life is.

We sit in silence, waiting for Alice to come inside. When she finally does and her eyes land on Pop, she crumbles, tears and sobs bursting forth like they've been held under pressure for too long.

Pop opens his arms and Alice rushes to his side, wrapping her arms around him and murmuring apologies she doesn't need to give ... apologies our mother should be giving—to both of them.

Feeling like I'm intruding on a moment, I excuse myself and walk outside, glad to see my mother has left and intent on going home to try and put all this shit behind me. At the end of the day, it doesn't really affect me. My priority is and always will be Bella and the boys.

And when I crawl into bed that night and pull my girl into my arms, all seems right in my world.

"How did it go?" she whispers against my chest.

"It was a fucking mess. She'd already told him before we got there, and he was in the process of tossing her out on her ass."

Her shoulders shake as she chuckles. "I'm sorry, but I _really_ wish I'd been there to see it. To see the high and mighty Esme Cullen get knocked off her self-appointed throne." She sighs. "That had to be a glorious sight."

"Careful," I warn. "It's not exactly good karma to laugh at other people's misfortune."

Her head pops up and her eyes meet mine in the dark, her bottom lip between her teeth. "Sorry."

"No, you're not." I chuckle and hold her tighter. "And it's okay to take pleasure in her ..."

"Demise?"

"Sure, if you wanna call it that." I settle deeper into the mattress, closing my eyes as I drag my fingertips slowly up and down her back. Just as I feel myself slipping into sleep, she speaks into the darkness.

"Has anyone heard anything new about Caius?"

I blink my eyes open and look down, brushing her hair back from her face. "No, not really. Why?"

She shrugs, watching her fingertip trace a line of ink on my chest. "I was thinking ... everyone around us is having babies. There's little Ollie and Leah, and now Alice might be pregnant soon." She looks up at me. "I know we were talking hypotheticals a while back, but it makes me think that could really be us one day."

I don't even try to hide my grin. "Get bit by the baby bug, did ya?"

"I just ..." She huffs and lays her head back down on my chest. "Oliver is just so cute, and Leah ... it reminded me of when Sam was born, and he's already in first grade. I don't want to wait too long to have more. I'd hate it if—"

I tilt her chin up to kiss her, silencing her rambling. I pull away but not completely, resting my forehead against hers. "When shit calms down and Caius isn't a problem anymore, if you want to try, we can try. But I don't want you to regret—"

"I won't," she rushes out. "And I know it may not happen for a while. I just ... I want to ... I want you to know I want that. For us. What do you think?"

I roll us so she's beneath me, and I smile, settling between her legs as my lips brush against hers. "I think I like the sound of that."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah."

* * *

The shop has managed to not completely devolve into chaos without my mother around to run it. And even though things are still kind of tense between Pop and me because of _my_ issues with my mother, we've been able to work together and make sense of the books to keep things moving. My favorite of the new prospects, Crow, has an associate's degree in business and seems to be a whiz with computers, so he's coming by after his day job to make sure our invoices and accounts match our receipts. The rest of us have jumped in to take calls and manage the appointments. It hasn't been easy, but we're making it work.

A few weeks pass, and as much as I'd like to believe things are quieting down for us, I feel I'm being lulled into a false sense of calm. Caius is still lurking out there. I know he's looking for a way to regroup, to either join another club or start his own chapter to seek his vengeance. The only thing making me feel better is that we have more eyes watching out for him.

We got a report from our friends in Nevada that he's still sniffing out local chapters of the Kingsmen. They're keeping tabs on him as recently as this week. After our warning to the boys from New Mexico, we know Caius still hasn't found anyone willing to take him on.

"You sure you don't want to come with us tomorrow?" Pop asks. He wipes a shop rag across his forehead as the heat of the afternoon sun shines through the bay doors. "It's only an overnight run. You wouldn't be gone long."

"Nah. Boom needs the extra cash right now. Jazz too. Besides, someone needs to stay here and keep these yahoos in line," I say, thumbing over my shoulder toward the other guys working.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. But you'll keep your ears open, call me if you hear anything from Charlie?"

"You know I will. It'll be just like last time, right? You're meeting with Riley for the hardware first, getting it to García, then making the drop, yeah?"

He nods. "Same as last time. But we both know things can go wrong. I just need a heads up if you hear anything."

"You got it, old man."

We go back to work, not speaking any more about the club's next run. When the last job of the day is done, we close up. A few of the guys head toward the clubhouse to kick back before heading home, and I lag behind, chatting with Jazz about Alice's upcoming appointment with the fertility doc.

"She's nervous." He takes a drag from his smoke and blows it out. "She's scared it won't work and we'll have spent all this money for nothing."

I place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze. "If it's meant to happen, it'll happen."

"Yeah. It's just hard to stay positive, for her sake, you know?"

"Just keep doing what you're doing, man. It'll happen for you guys."

A car pulling into the lot grabs my attention, and it's not someone I'm anxious to talk to. He shifts his cruiser into park and gets out of it, sauntering over to us like he's got all the time in the world.

"Evening, gentlemen." His bright white smile is in sharp contrast to the nasty gleam in his eye.

I nod my head once in greeting. "Deputy Black. What brings you by?" His very presence has me instantly on the defensive.

"Just wanted to give you boys a heads up that Chief Swan has been put on suspension."

"No shit?"

"No shit." His smile widens. "He's being investigated for misconduct. And I'm acting chief until it's all sorted out."

I cross my arms over my chest and tilt my head. "Well, ain't that something? I always knew he was crooked. Guess it finally caught up with him."

Jacob's head bobs in a slow nod. "It would appear that way."

"What kind of misconduct is he being investigated for?"

"Come on, Cullen. We both know I can't talk to you about any ongoing investigations."

I shrug a shoulder like I don't really give a shit. "I had to try."

"I just wanted to extend you all the courtesy of telling you someone new will be keeping an eye on things around here. You know, since the fox is no longer guarding the henhouse, so to speak."

The corner of my mouth lifts into a grin. "So, what? Now we've got a guard dog watching out for us?"

He chuckles. "Something like that. You'll be sure to pass along the news to your old man, won't you, Cullen?"

"I will. He'll be happy to know the town is in such ... _capable_ hands."

As I watch Jacob Black drive out of the lot, Pop walks up beside me. "What did he want?"

I turn to my father, who's still got his eyes locked on the gates. "Charlie's been suspended."

"Shit."

"Yeah. I'm not sure what the specifics are, so maybe we need to track him down to see what's what. If they find anything implicating us ..."

"All kinds of shit could blow up in our faces." He turns to me. "But that's not our only problem."

"What's wrong?"

"I just got a call from Peter down at Jack's Tavern. He wants you and me to meet with him tonight."

"What's the rush?"

"Well, now that I know Charlie's been suspended, his call makes a little more sense."

"Charlie?"

He nods. "Peter said Charlie was at the bar last night, but he wasn't alone."

A dozen scenarios flit through my mind as I stare at Pop, and none of them are good. If he met with one of García's guys, or a DEA or ATF agent ... any of them would spell disaster for us. The only thing I know for certain is if Charlie thinks selling us out is going to get him anywhere, he's in for one hell of a rude awakening. That son of a bitch's hands are every bit as dirty as anyone's in the club, and I'll be damned if we go down because he's trying to save his own ass.

* * *

**A/N: Any guesses? ;) I can't say if you're right, but it's fun to guess, right? Lol. And if anyone is keeping track, Crow is Tyler "Crow"ley, the prospect mentioned in a previous chapter. I'd love to hear what you thought of this one. **

*****PLEASE READ*** Okay, so RL is kicking my butt, guys. I'm going to have to make a change to my posting schedule. Starting next week, I'll only be updating one story (Clutch/Shift) every week on Tuesday, and alternate between the two. Hopefully, that makes sense. So, instead of chapter 33 of Clutch, I'll be posting chapter 18 of Shift on Tuesday next week. Chapter 33 of Clutch will post the following Tuesday, September 22nd, and so on. I'm having trouble carving out time to write, not to mention the time it takes to work on edits and teasers and playlists ... the list goes on. Lol. Getting a kiddo to school every other day and helping the other with schoolwork is proving to be more difficult than I anticipated. Hopefully, I'll get back into a productive groove, but I need time to catch up. Thanks for being so understanding. Xoxo  
**

**The best way to stay up to date is to follow my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. **

"**See" you soon! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

**Songs: **

**Skeletons, Papa Roach  
****F8, Five Finger Death Punch  
****Outcast, Shinedown**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter one. **

* * *

***Fiddling was had. Words were added. All mistakes are mine. **

* * *

**Edward**

Pop and I sit in a booth at the back of Jack's, and our good friend, Peter, is across from us. He's sweating, licking his dry lips and looking pale. We've been here for five minutes, and he hasn't said a word other than offering us a drink from the bottle of Jack he's working on.

The last time we sat like this was when he told us about Aro Volturi sniffing around, asking questions about Bella. But this time, he's less forthcoming ... even though he's the one who called us here.

The tremble in his hand is noticeable as he reaches for the tumbler in front of him.

"You gonna tell us why you dragged us all the way out here?" Pop asks, growing impatient.

Peter takes a deep breath, blowing it out as he sets his glass down. "Like I told you when I called, Charlie was in here a couple days ago."

"And you said he wasn't alone?" I lean forward. "Is that fucker in with Volturi or something? DEA or ATF?" When he remains silent, I reach across the table and grab his shirt. "Spit it out, Pete!"

"Hey, give the man a chance to speak," Pop says, pushing me back into my seat. He turns to Peter. "But you really need to get to the fucking point."

Peter's eyes lock with Pop's. "Swan was in here with your old lady."

My father's brow furrows, and his jaw clenches. "Esme was here ... with Charlie?"

Peter nods. "Charlie came in first. Es came in not long after." He points toward the bar. "They sat at the end there for a while."

I glance at my father, but only briefly, before looking back to Peter. "Could you hear what they were talking about?"

It's Peter's turn to glance at Pop, who's staring down at the worn tabletop, his jaw still clenched tightly and his hands balled into fists. Our friend turns to me. "It didn't look too friendly at first, but eventually they seemed to warm up to each other."

"Warmed up?" Pop scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. "That son of a bitch."

"Could you hear what they were talking about?" I ask, side-eyeing Pop.

Peter swallows hard, licking his lips again. "At first it sounded like a lot of 'down on their luck' commiserating, you know? I know the chief was suspended, and I heard you tossed the old lady out on her ass a while back, so it made sense. Charlie was always friendly with the club, so I didn't think anything of it at first."

I raise a brow. "At first?"

Pete nods. "Charlie said something about money she owed him, so I started paying more attention. He said he wanted to get his shit together so he could take off for Mexico. Then Esme mentioned something about a paternity test. Said she was gonna keep the cash and call it even on child support, and he could fuck off."

"That motherfucker," Pop hisses, and I can guess we've likely both come to the same conclusion.

Charlie must be Alice's biological father.

"Anyway," Peter continues, completely unaware of the bombshell he's just dropped, "they were pretty quiet after that, but I could see it was still heated between them. Esme got loud then, saying she didn't have any extra money and maybe he should go ask his bitch of a daughter for it."

"What else did they say?" I ask through gritted teeth.

He reaches for the bottle on the table and pours himself another two fingers of whiskey. "Charlie threatened to go to the police with something he had on her. She said she'd already lost everything, that he couldn't threaten her with anything now." Peter tilts his glass back, downing his drink in one swallow.

"Go to the police?" I hiss. "What the fuck was Charlie talking about?"

"He reminded Esme he's kept an old handgun with her prints all over it as a souvenir." Trepidation flashes in Peter's eyes as he looks at me. "Said she'd lose a lot more if she was charged with murder."

* * *

We haven't said a word since we left Peter inside, walking side by side through the lot toward our bikes. A thousand things run through my head, but before either of us can give voice to our thoughts, Acting Chief Black steps out of the shadows, a smarmy grin on his face.

"Have a nice evening, boys?"

I give him a sarcastic smile of my own. "Sure did. You should join us next time." I stare him down, anger and frustration rolling through me in waves. All I want to do is ride off and hunt down my mother.

"I just might do that," he replies. "In fact, I think I'll head inside and see if anyone is up to chatting. You boys have a good night." He steps toward the door before turning around. "And _try_ to stay outta trouble." With one last gleaming smile, he turns and walks inside.

"That's all we need, Black sniffing around," Pop grumbles to himself before he spins around and kicks a rock across the lot. "Goddamn motherfucking bastard!" His hands clench at his sides as he paces the lot. "Can you believe that asshole was screwing my wife? All these years, he's been shaking _me _down for money? I swear to Christ I'll—"

"_That's_ what you're pissed about? You're worried about who stuck his dick in your wife? Are you gonna ignore that we just found out Esme killed someone?"

He looks at me then, his eyes still blazing with fury. "You think I give two shits about that? No, whatever she did is dead and buried."

"But is it? How can you say that when Charlie's obviously still holding this shit over her head? If what Pete said is true, there's a murder weapon out there with Esme's prints on it. That shit could come back to bite us _all _in the ass. All we need is someone coming in and nosing around, and we're fucked." I point toward the door to Jack's. "It's bad enough Black seems to have a hard-on for us right now. We don't need the DA coming in looking too closely."

"It wouldn't come back on the club. Your mother meanwhile ..." He shakes his head, chuckling to himself, but it's dark and menacing. "All along, that bitch knew Charlie was Alice's father."

I stare slack-jawed as he rambles on, absolutely stunned he's completely dismissing the bigger issue.

"And all that time, she treated Mase like he was the enemy. We both know what she was doing, trying to run him off by shorting his pay the way she did."

"Which you never handled," I say through gritted teeth, getting more pissed off with every word coming out of his mouth. "If you'd put a leash on her years ago, maybe shit would've been different."

"You think it's so simple? Your mother isn't exactly the picture of meekness. I don't think she would have been too agreeable to being _leashed._"

"So, that's a reason to let her dictate what you're gonna do? Was the deal with García Mom's idea, too? Is she that much of a greedy bitch she thought running drugs for him was worth the risk?"

He levels me with a glare. "That's enough, Edward."

Thoughts and feelings I've kept quiet for months bubble under the surface of my skin, the words vibrating out of me as I try to hold back the anger I'm feeling at every-fucking-thing. "Months have gone by and Bella's still never seen another dime of that money. Why haven't _you_ done something to rectify it?"

"You expect me to—"

"She's _your_ fucking wife!" I shout, the tenuous hold I have on my emotions finally snapping. I get in his face, my voice dropping to a low growl. "You pretend to have a grip on everything—your club, your business—but you can't even keep your woman in line! You let her run your life, run your business, and now I'm questioning if she's whispering ideas into your ear about your club, because how else do you explain the fact we're mules for the cartel?"

I don't see it coming, but when his fist makes contact with my jaw, I sure as fuck feel it.

"Don't you ever speak to me like that again, you son of a bitch. I don't give a shit if you're my son. You watch your goddamn mouth."

I spit the blood from my mouth and wipe a hand across my lips. The grin I give Pop is mocking ... condescending at best. "Sure thing, Pop. You've got it all under control, right? Just like you have for all these years? Who am I to question the mighty Carlisle Cullen?"

I turn and walk away from him without another word and get on my bike. I fire up the engine and peel out of the lot, not giving a fuck that there is still so much left unsaid and undone.

* * *

I walk through the door and into the kitchen, tossing my keys on the table. I practically rip off my cut and toss it on a chair. My hands splay out on the counter, my eyes squeezed shut. The boys' voices carry from the other room, their chatter and laughter typical for the evening, but tonight it's almost too much. When they chase each other down the hall, screaming about who's going to be next to play a video game, I can't stop myself from shouting at them.

"Cool it, you two!"

"Sorry, Dad!" Seth yells from his room.

"Yeah, sorry, Uncle E," Sam says, his apology followed by a giggle.

I rub a hand over my face and groan, the stress of the last few hours having shredded the last of my nerves. I may be home with my family, but my temper is still simmering beneath the surface.

"Bad day?" Bella asks, wrapping her arms around my waist and laying her head against my back.

I cover her hands with mine, and just the touch of her skin on mine instantly calms me. "Just some bullshit with Pop."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not right now." I turn and pull her into my arms.

My face must be more fucked up than I thought, because she gasps. "What happened?" She runs a finger over my jaw, and I hiss. "It's a little swollen." She pulls away and heads for the freezer, reaching inside for a bag of frozen peas. "Here, this should help."

"Thanks." To appease her, I grab the bag and place it on my face, sitting at the table.

She stays where she is, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms. "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not."

"Did your father seriously hit you?"

I purse my lips and narrow my eyes.

"What? What am I supposed to assume when you come home bitching about something concerning your father and just so happen to have a busted lip and a swollen cheek?"

"You shouldn't assume anything." She stares me down for several minutes, and I start to squirm under her scrutiny. "What?"

"You're seriously not going to tell me? You want to start keeping things from me now?" She drops her arms to her sides and walks toward the doorway. "Unbelievable," she mumbles as she disappears.

I close my eyes, heaving a sigh as I pull the bag away from my cheek and place it on the table. The last thing I want to do is piss Bella off by keeping secrets. And the ironic thing is I don't even want to keep it from her. I just need time to sort through shit and organize my thoughts.

Deciding the best thing is a little time and distance, I go out to the garage, spending some time tinkering with the Panhead that my brother left unfinished. It's quiet work, something I can do without much focus, and it allows me to think about all the shit that's happened today.

Thinking about all the damage Esme's done by keeping secrets, by lying to everyone for so many years, makes me so fucking angry. She's hurt so many people I love, and for what? Just so she could keep the status quo? As if her treatment of my brother—and subsequently Bella and Sam—wasn't enough, she'd also been lying to Alice her entire life.

Then there's Bella and my sister. _Our_ sister. Jesus, this is going to change everything. Just imagining the looks on their faces when they learn the truth puts a knot in my stomach.

I can't even begin to come to terms with the fact that Esme killed someone. There's a body out there, a murder weapon with her prints on it, apparently, and a man who knows everything. I don't trust Charlie any farther than I could throw him. He's been a dirty cop as long as I've known him, and I wouldn't put it past him to flip on all of us. With his knowledge of the club's dealings with García and Riley over the years, he could single-handedly put us all away for years.

But I need to cross one hurdle at a time, and right now, Bella is my priority. I'll figure out how to tell Alice tomorrow.

An hour or two passes before Bella comes out to check on me.

"I'm sorry." I say it before she can open her mouth to speak. "I wasn't trying to keep shit from you. I just needed to ... process."

She nods as she walks over, sitting on the stool near the workbench. "The boys just went to bed. You feel like talking now?"

"Yeah." I pull the ratchet off the bolt and swivel around. I decide to start from the beginning. "Jacob came by the shop this afternoon, right before we closed up for the night."

She rolls her eyes. "What did that asshole have to say?"

"He came by to tell us your father had been put on suspension."

It's almost indecipherable, but she jerks back. "Oh. That ... that could be a huge problem for the club."

"I know. He's already poking around."

"But how did a visit from Jacob lead to you and Pop getting into it?"

I sigh. "It didn't. We got a call from a friend of ours saying he needed to talk to us. Said your old man had been into Jack's and had met with someone."

She wraps her arms around her waist, like she knows something big is coming. "Who was he meeting with?"

"My mother."

She tilts her head, and silence hangs between us. I can see a thousand questions in her eyes, and the answers I have for a few of them are going to quite literally change her life.

"And I'm assuming your friend heard something he felt you needed to hear?"

I place the ratchet on the ground and stand, walking over to her and reaching for her hands. "Yeah. He heard quite a bit, actually."

"Why do I have a feeling this somehow involves me?"

"It does, but it doesn't."

"Edward, that doesn't make any sense."

I take a deep breath and blow it out. "Our guy overheard them talking about money Esme owed Charlie. He said he needed it so he could get out of town. Said something about heading to Mexico."

She laughs and tries to pull her hands from mine, but I hold tight. "If you're worried I'll be upset he's leaving, you couldn't be more wrong."

"Baby, that's not what I'm worried about."

I stare down at her until she meets my eyes.

"What is it?" she whispers.

"I'm pretty certain ..." I squeeze her hands, doing my best to keep her grounded. "Baby, we're pretty sure Charlie is Alice's father."

"Alice's ..." She tries to pull away again, and this time I let her. Hopping off the stool, she starts to pace, tugging at the end of her ponytail. "That's impossible. That would make her—" She turns to me, her eyes wide. "That would make her my sister. And she's your sister. You're my—"

I almost trip over my own feet getting to her. "I'm yours, Bella." I wrap my arms around her and hold her head to my chest. "If it's true, Ali is my half-sister and yours. It doesn't make us related."

She looks up at me, tears shining in her eyes. "Why would they lie about that for all these years?"

"Because they knew it would tear the club apart."

"Oh my god. Your father must be ready to kill Charlie."

"Something like that."

Her hand comes to rest on my cheek. "But I don't understand how that led to you two getting into it."

I kiss her forehead, warring with myself over how much to tell her. "Some things were said about Esme he didn't like."

Her brows furrow in confusion. "He was actually defending her?"

"No. But I said a few things he didn't want to hear."

She searches my eyes, and I'm not sure what she finds, but she doesn't press me. I couldn't be more grateful. I'm just not ready to tell her about the shit with García the club is mixed up in right now.

"I just need you to promise me that if you see her around town, you'll keep your distance."

She shakes her head. "You know I wouldn't willingly speak to her right now."

"I know, but I don't even want you in the same room with her, okay? I don't trust her."

"I haven't trusted her for years. But you don't have to worry about that. I can't imagine she'd want to speak to me anyway."

When we finally make it to bed, I lie there wide awake for hours. Even naked and sated with Bella's warm body against mine, my mind won't shut down. I think back to all the times Esme and Charlie have crossed paths over the years, the way they tried to stay out of each other's way. It seemed odd that they'd avoid each other. Charlie's been mixed up in club business for years. But now it all makes sense.

My mother trying to keep her secrets, while Charlie was holding them over her.

And now I have a pretty good suspicion about why Esme changed her tune so fast after Bella and me broke up. That day so many years ago when I watched Charlie leave our house, I knew whatever his reason was for seeing her that day was what changed my mother's mind. But I never would have guessed he was there to remind her what he knew. Looking back, it makes perfect sense.

Esme made me give up Bella to save her own skin.

And if my mother is capable of killing someone, who's to say she wouldn't again? As I look down at the sleeping woman in my arms, I worry Esme might see her as part of the reason she's lost me ... her family.

I kiss Bella's forehead and pull her closer, her body snuggling into mine. I close my eyes and try to drift off, but sleep eludes me all night, dawn coming far too soon.

Before I leave for work, I shoot off a text, letting Jazz and Boom know it might be better to sit out on today's run.

_Why? - Jazz_

_Yeah, what's up? - Boomer_

_We'll talk when I get in, but skip out if you can - E_

_Better be a damn good reason. I need the money, E - Jazz_

_It is - E _

_I'm trusting you, man - Jazz_

_This have something to do with the shit you told me and Mac back at Thanksgiving? - Boomer_

_We'll talk when I get in. Just pass it off if you can - E_

_You got it - Boomer_

_You better not be fucking around - Jazz_

_I'm not. I'll be there within the hour - E_

* * *

The sun shines brightly as Pop walks out of the clubhouse followed by the guys making today's run with him.

"You still think it's a good idea to do this with Black keeping an eye on us?" I ask, watching them load up.

"I'm not gonna let that pompous prick change our plans. We'll just take a new route in and out of town. And we're making the second drop all the way in Santa Fe. It's a little out of his jurisdiction," Pop says with a snide smile.

"For the record, I think this is a bad idea."

"Well, no one asked you, did they?"

I push off the railing and stand at my full height, getting within an inch of his face. "No, I guess not." I turn and walk away, leaving the asshole to direct his guys.

Once they're loaded up, Pop leads the group out of the lot. Hawk, Tracker, Tank, and Trigger trail right behind him.

"You and your old man okay?" Mac asks, walking up beside me.

I turn to face him. "No, not really."

"Things looked a little tense out there before they took off."

I walk over to the wall of clipboards and keys and snatch the first in line. "Because they were."

"It have anything to do with your bruised face and Carl's red knuckles? The last I heard, you two went to meet up with Peter yesterday. Did something happen to put you two at each other's throats?"

"I need to talk to Jazz first. Most of it is family shit." I turn toward the Buick I need to get started on, but Mac reaches for my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

"And me and Boom aren't family?" The intense expression on his face catches me off guard. "You need to keep me in the loop, man. We're all in your corner. If shit is going down, we need to know. We've got your back, E."

I nod as I watch Jazz and Boomer walk onto the shop floor from the office. "You two need to hear this."

"So, is this when we find out why the hell I passed up thousands of dollars today?" Jazz asks, his tone more than a little irritated.

I cross my arms as the three of them huddle around me. "We talked to Peter last night."

"It was about Charlie, right?" Mac asks.

"Yeah." I turn to face Jazz, and as much as I think Ali needs to hear this before her husband, I need him to understand now why I'm at odds with Pop. "Charlie met Esme at Jack's a few days ago."

"What the fuck did they have to talk about?" Jazz snaps.

"Look, I know Ali probably deserves to hear this before you, but it can't wait. I've got a thousand things going on in my head, and I need to know if you're all with me."

Jazz stares at me silently, and judging by the look on his face, I'm sure he's already putting the pieces together.

"Peter overheard their conversation, and if what he heard is true, Charlie is Ali's bio dad."

Jazz takes a couple steps backward, shaking his head and grinning wryly. "That motherfucking asshole. You mean to tell me he's been in bed with the club all these years and was _literally_ in bed with Esme?"

I nod. "Like I said, this was an overheard conversation, but it all kind of makes sense. I suspected for years that he had something on her, but that's not all of it."

"What else could that bitch have possibly done?"

"Peter overheard Charlie remind her he had evidence she murdered someone."

We all stand silently as they digest what they've just heard, probably thinking back to all the conflicts the club has had over the years and wondering who met their end at my mother's hand.

"What did Carl have to say?" Mac finally asks. "I mean, are Charlie and Es still breathing?"

I shake my head. "Get this. He was more upset about her fucking around on him than hearing she offed somebody."

"That shit's messed up, man," Mac murmurs.

"Exactly. It's like he's not thinking straight."

Boomer shakes his head. "No, he's not."

"And we all know Esme was cheating Mase for years. I still don't know if I believe Pop when he says he didn't know, but even after he found out, he didn't really _do_ anything."

Mac crosses his beefy arms over his chest. "I told you back in November I didn't think he should be sitting at the head of the table if he was going to let shit like that slide."

I slap the back of my hand against Mac's forearm. "The minute we walked out of the bar last night, guess who was there?"

"Good old Deputy Black?" Boomer asks.

"One in the same. He was here yesterday and then showed up at the bar last night. He had to have been following us. There's no other way he would have known. That's why I didn't want you guys going on that run today. I think Pop is out of his fucking mind to run this one with Black so close. And it's why I think maybe now is the time to bring this shit to the table. If he fucks up and gets the club into a mess we can't get out of, it'll be too late."

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," Boomer says, looking over my shoulder.

The lot bell chimes as I turn around. The familiar cruiser parks, and Black steps out.

"He's like a parasite, ain't he?" Jazz mumbles, stepping outside to light a smoke.

I watch as Jacob strolls our way like he doesn't have a care in the world. "No, I'm pretty sure you can get rid of a parasite."

"How are you fine gentlemen today?" Jacob's eyes scan the shop, probably taking inventory of who's here and who isn't.

"Oh, we're just fine, Deputy," I reply, tilting my head as he nears. "What brings you by today?"

"It's Chief to you, Cullen. And I was hoping to have a little chat with your old man. He over at the clubhouse?"

"He's not, actually. He had some club business to take care of today. Is there something I can help you with?"

He shakes his head. "No, I think I'll wait to speak to him directly." He looks over his shoulder at the clubhouse and back to me. "Maybe I'll radio the highway patrol to be on the lookout for him." His grin broadens. "Wouldn't want to lose track of him, would we?"

The bottom of my stomach drops out, and I'm sure Black can see the anxiety written all over my face.

"You boys have a good day, you hear? I'll stop by later to check in ... that is unless I find him on the road first."

"That bastard is getting too close, E," Mac says from behind me.

I pull out my cell as I turn to face him. "We need to call Pop. If he sends out an APB or something, we're fucked. If we're lucky, he hasn't met with Riley yet." I scroll through my contacts to my father's name, hit the call icon, and bring the phone to my ear. "Come on, come on," I mumble as it rings.

When Pop doesn't answer, I have a gut feeling something is going to go wrong.

"He's not answering," I say as I try Hawk's number next.

"E, they're still riding. They're not gonna pull over to answer the phone," Mac says, trying to reason with me.

"They all know I wouldn't call unless it was an emergency," I snap.

"Yeah, but they haven't been gone long enough to get there. They're not even gonna see that you're calling. Give it some time."

For more than an hour, I continue trying both numbers. Each time the call to Pop rings and rings, and Hawk's number goes straight to voicemail. After nearly an hour of trying, a call to Hawk finally connects, and what I hear makes my blood run cold.

"_We've got one hell of a clusterfuck here, E_," Hawk says, his voice low.

"What's wrong?" My heart thuds in my chest, and my blood rushes through my ears. "Did highway patrol catch up with you guys?" My hand goes to my hair, gripping it at the roots. "Tell me you haven't made the pickup yet."

"_Highway patrol? What the fuck are you talking about?_"

"What do you mean, what am I talking about? What the fuck is going on, Hawk?"

"_Riley's dead. He's in the usual spot in his van, but there's a bullet between his eyes and the cargo's gone._"

"Fuck," I mutter, closing my eyes and wishing this was all a bad dream.

"_That's not all, E_." His voice lowers even more. "_I'm pretty sure a Kingsman got to him. If I had to guess, I'd say it was Caius. He's got those same marks carved into his face Mase did_."

I close my eyes, pushing away the panic I'm feeling about Caius Volturi being this close to us ... to Bella and the boys. "You guys need to get the fuck outta there. Black was here about an hour ago, and it sounded like he's sending out an APB or some shit to find you guys. You need to get back here and call off the run for García. You can't be hauling shit for him across state lines."

"_Shit_." His voice is muffled, and I can hear my old man shouting in the background. "_You're telling him, man. I'm not gonna be the one to break the bad news to him. We were already taking a hit with losing this shipment. If we can't make the run ... yeah, you're telling him_."

The phone must be wrenched out of Hawk's hand, because the next thing I hear is Pop's voice.

"_What is it now? I swear to Christ, if one more thing goes wrong ..._" His breaths are coming fast and hard over the line, and I know he's about five seconds from snapping.

"You need to get your asses back here."

"_Why the fuck would I do that? I can still make the drop for—_"

"Because Jacob fucking Black is looking for you! He must know something is up, and he said he'd ask his patrol buddies to keep a lookout for you and the guys. Now isn't the best time to be playing errand boy. And I'd get the fuck outta there, too. You don't need to be found with a dead arms dealer, Pop."

The next thing I hear is the sound of Pop groaning before wind whips through the speaker, all of it ending in a cracking shatter before the line goes dead.

"Guess it didn't go well?" Mac asks.

I turn to my friend. "Riley is dead."

"Who do you think—"

"Hawk said Riley's face was all carved up."

"Shit. Caius? He's that close?"

I nod. "Probably. I can't see another chapter of Kingsmen making the trip to go after a small time arms dealer."

"What is Carl gonna do now? He's gotta call if all off, right?"

"I have no idea. But with Riley dead, so is our connection for the guns García's been buying from us for the last seven years." I meet Mac's stare. "Shit just got way more complicated."

* * *

**A/N: A lot of you guessed it was Esme Charlie met with. And some of you guessed Charlie was Alice's father. Kudos! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! **

**I've officially finished writing Shift, so I'll be able to change gears and focus solely on finishing Clutch. I'm finding my groove again and hope to get back to weekly posting of both stories, but for now I'll still be updating one story per week. I only have one more Clutch chapter banked, so I need to get some writing done! I'll be back next week with a Shift chapter.**

**The best way to stay up to date is to follow my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. As of this morning, we're nine members away from an even 800! If you're not there, you're missing out!**

"**See" you soon! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

**Songs: **

**Head Like A Hole, Nine Inch Nails  
****Something In The Way, Nirvana  
****Not Afraid, Eminem**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter one.**

* * *

**Edward**

Mac walks off to call everyone in for church. While we wait for the guys on the run to get back, I pull my phone from my pocket and call Bella.

With every ring, my anxiety ramps up. By the time she finally picks up, I practically shout into the phone. "Where are you?"

"_I'm at the studio," _she says slowly, like I_'_ve lost it. Maybe I have_. "Where else would I be this time of day?_"

"I'm sending Crow over there. It's his day off, so it shouldn't take him too long. I don't want you to leave for the day until he gets there. Do you understand me?"

"_What's going on? Why do I suddenly need a babysitter again?_"

I hesitate. I'm not ready to tell her the asshole who has already hurt her in unimaginable ways is likely back, but I know I can't lie to her. "Caius might be close. I don't know for sure, but I don't want to take any chances."

"_Edward, the boys! They_'_re—_"

"They're fine. The school has its own security. Have Crow go with you to pick them up, and just go straight home. I'll be there as soon as I can."

We stay in touch via text as she finishes her shift and I wait for all the guys to get here. She decides to call it an early day and texts to let me know she's leaving when Crow gets there. And once I get confirmation from him that everything is okay at McCarty's, I feel like I can breathe. It takes a couple of hours for everyone to show, and the guys all look worn and haggard as they pull in.

Pop doesn't even acknowledge me as he storms inside the clubhouse, his phone already held to his ear. Everyone else hangs back, filling us in on what they saw when they found Riley. Tracker even got close enough to snap a picture of him, and sure enough, the lines carved into his forehead match the mark so often left behind by the Kingsmen.

"That shit was nasty up close," Trigger says as he zooms in. "And that was a clean shot at point blank range, too." He holds his phone up to my face.

"Put that shit away," I snap, pushing his hand away when he tries to show me the hole in Riley's dome. "Come on. We need to get inside. Everyone else is already here."

By the time we're all seated around the table, I'm vibrating with nervous energy. I'm ready to get this shit over with so we can formulate a plan. Tracker is pacing at the far end of the room, one hand gripping a cigarette and the other furiously typing away on his phone.

The door to the chapel opens, and Pop walks in, drawing attention to himself as he heads for the head of the table. "García's ... unhappy." He settles into his chair and rubs his hands over his face.

"How unhappy?" Tank asks.

Pop groans before lowering his hands and looking at all of us. "He said it would be unfortunate if he needed to send some of his men up here to find out what the holdup is."

"That's the last fucking thing we need," Jazz mumbles.

Pop glances at his son-in-law before turning to the rest of us. "I was able to get him to back off with the promise we'd get our shit sorted out. So, our deal is temporarily on hold. At least for a few days."

I aim my simmering anger and frustration at my father. "Are you seriously more worried about the deal with García than about Caius being so close?"

Pop turns his narrowed eyes on me. "What do you expect me to do about it?"

"I want you to acknowledge that the asshole who killed my brother—a member of this fucking club—is out there"—I point at the door—"and close enough to be a threat to my old lady and my kids!"

"Do you really think he'll be able to get close enough to do anything? He's one man, E, against a club our size." Pop shakes his head. "I'm not worried about one crazy fuck when we have bigger problems to deal with."

I fall back in my chair, reeling from what Pop is essentially saying; he's more worried about the missed shipment than anything else. Not the safety of the club, not my girl, not even his fucking grandsons. No, he's more concerned about the bottom line and missing out on a payday.

And I get it. If we can't deliver for García, we're going to have problems. But if we can't be assured there isn't a vengeful asshole out there lying in wait for us, we can't exactly take risks with people's lives.

Tracker is off in the corner talking on the phone now, but most of the guys start chattering, their voices low as they brainstorm about how to fix the mess we're in. Everything from looking for another arms connection to ways of evading Jacob Black are mentioned, but nothing seems to gain much traction.

As I look around the room, I can see who's eager to continue the arrangement with García and who would rather cut our ties and move on. I'm not surprised that Jazz, Mac, and Boomer are all being relatively silent, their gazes occasionally meeting mine and each other's.

Tank, always a voice of reason, eventually speaks up. "I'm with E on this one, Carl. We don't know if Caius acted alone with Riley or if he's got a new crew. I don't think it's smart to underestimate him."

Pop grits his teeth. "I have to disagree. Even if Caius got himself a new crew, it's more than likely a pop-up club. If he's wearing their colors and doesn't have permission, he doesn't have the support of the Kingsmen. If that's the case, there aren't any rules about how to deal with him. We can pick them off one by one if they get too close. Hell, we can call the New Mexico chapter and have them come take care of him for us."

"You're pretty fucking confident to think he won't be a problem," I growl, getting Pop's attention. "He got past the Vegas chapter. Who's to say he won't get close enough to hurt somebody before New Mexico can get here? He's already proven he doesn't give two shits about messing with women. Are you prepared to deal with it if one of their old ladies"—I wave a finger around the room, pointing at the other guys before aiming it at him—"or heaven forbid, your own flesh and blood gets hurt ... or worse?"

"Then we call everyone into the clubhouse. Keep the women and children safe until he shows up," he says, almost to himself.

"Are you hearing yourself, old man? We have no fucking idea how long he's going to fuck with us. We can't ask them to upend their lives while we play a game of cat and mouse. Not to mention, we've got goddamn Jacob Black watching every fucking thing we do."

"Enough!" Pop shouts. "I say we don't count anything out yet. We look into everything and weigh all our options, then we make a decision. I want to get in touch with a few other contacts ... see what we can pull together to at least get García a shipment by the end of the week. I think he'll be a little more understanding about everything if we can come through with at least that part of our deal."

"I think it's too risky." I meet Pop's hard stare with my own. "All the bullshit with Caius aside, we've got Black breathing down our necks. All it would take is him getting too close, and we're all fucked."

"What do you expect me to do?" Pop barks back. "We need to keep up our end of the deal, even if it takes a few weeks to get it together. If we can't follow through, we'll lose—"

I slam my hands down on the table. "So fucking what! We won't be making any money if we're in prison or dead."

We continue to stare each other down, and I can feel the tension rolling off him in waves. I don't doubt all it would take is for me to flinch and he'd reach across the table and beat the shit out of me ... even with a room full of witnesses.

"You think you know how to handle this shit better than I do?" he says low, gnashing his teeth.

"I think you need to stop for a goddamn minute and think this through. What good is a connection going to do us if we've got beat cops or highway patrol on our tail at every turn? They're not Charlie, Carl; they're not going to look the other way. You find a connection for the hardware? Great. But you get caught with that shit, you get hauled in on gun charges. You make the run for García and get brought in, you're not going to get charged with possession. You're gonna be looking at a trafficking rap." I turn to look at the rest of the table. "It hasn't been a secret I'm not happy with running García's shit for him. But _none_ of you can look me in the eye and tell me it's worth the risk now."

The room is silent, only the sounds of the guys shifting in their seats can be heard. Even Pop is quiet.

Boomer clears his throat, and we all turn to look at him. "If it's going to a vote, I'm out. I can't—" He shakes his head and sighs. "It's too big a risk for me. Oliver isn't even a year old, and I can't do that to Maggie. And even if that wasn't a worry, with Caius out there somewhere, I want to stick around home to keep an eye on her and my boy."

"I think we can find a way around Black," Tracker says, finally coming back to the table and reaching for another cigarette. "You remember that buddy of mine who runs Miller Freight out of Phoenix? The guy owes me a favor. I won't have a problem getting my hands on a truck. We snag a cage and drive up there, and highway patrol won't be any wiser. We could make the drop for García, too." He shrugs a shoulder. "Problem solved."

Pop nods. "Let me make a few calls." His gaze lingers on Boomer before he looks around the table. "Anyone else having a crisis of conscience all of a sudden?"

Mac and Jazz look my way, and I know they're thinking the same thing I am. This shit isn't worth the risk.

My brother-in-law clears his throat. "I'll sit this one out. Ali has her appointment soon, and I can't—"

"Yeah, I get it," Pop replies, reluctance lacing his tone. He scans the faces of the rest of the members. "Anyone else?" Pop's eyes land on Mac.

My friend shakes his head. "I'm out, Carl. I was cool with it before, but we were flying under the radar. We aren't anymore. I've already done time, and I'm not in any hurry to do it again." He glances at Boomer. "And I think it's a good idea to keep a handful of us here in case shit goes down. Keeping our girls safe isn't something I'm comfortable with letting the prospects handle if we have another choice."

Even though Tank votes no with us, Pop gets enough yes votes to go ahead with the plan. If Tracker can secure a truck and Pop can find another connection, the Outcasts will be making another run for García.

Consequences be damned.

* * *

When I pull up to my house, Crow is in the driveway, leaning against his bike and tapping away on his phone. He looks up as I roll into the driveway and stands to his full height as I cut my engine.

"Hey, man."

"Hey." I stand and swing my leg over the seat, unclasping my brain bucket. "Thanks for dropping everything earlier to keep an eye on Bella and the boys."

"You're welcome. That's all part of being in the club, right? Looking out for each other?"

I sigh. "You'd think that, wouldn't you?"

"What?" he asks, confused.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it."

He stares at me for a moment longer than I'd like but ultimately ignores my off-handed remark. "So, what happened earlier? One of the other prospects was texting me, saying all the patched members were in church. Said something major was going down."

"You remember the club that came over the last night we were in Sturgis and Carl was warning them about a guy named Caius?"

"Yeah."

"We're pretty sure he's back."

"And that's a bad thing, right?"

I nod, looking toward the house. "Yeah. He hurt my girl twice already, and I can't risk her safety."

"Shit, E."

I turn to face him. "It's why I asked you to make sure she got home safe today and to stick around until I got home."

"Well, you know how to reach me if you need me."

I reach for his outstretched hand, shaking it. "Thanks, man."

"Don't mention it."

When I walk inside, the boys are working on their homework at the kitchen table, and Bella is at the stove, cooking dinner. When she looks up at me and smiles, it's like all the bullshit of the day is outside our little bubble.

"Hey, you. You look tired," she says, wiping her hands on a dish towel and walking over to me.

"I am. It's been a long day." My hands fall to her waist as she nears, and I pull her closer.

She drapes her arms on my shoulders and kisses me quickly. "You wanna talk about it?" she asks, her voice low enough so the boys don't hear.

"Later. After the boys are in bed, okay?"

She nods and pulls away. "Hope you're hungry."

"Starved."

It's several hours before the kids are in bed and everything is locked up for the night. I take extra time to make sure each window is locked and set the alarm. Even though no one outside my immediate circle knows where I live, I'm paranoid and on edge.

When I finally make my way toward our room, I can hear the water running, and tendrils of steam are licking their way out through the crack in the door to our bathroom. The splash and spatter of the shower are like a siren call, drawing me in. And when I open the door, I'm met with the pale skin of my girl, the view distorted by patches of condensation on the glass.

I peel my shirt over my head and drop my jeans, opening the glass door and stepping in behind her. When I kiss her neck, she practically melts into my arms.

"You ready to talk?"

"I am, but you're not going to like what I have to say."

She turns to face me, and worry lights her deep brown eyes. "What is it?"

I watch rivulets run over her shoulder and disappear between her breasts, a momentary distraction from what I know I should do. I worry about telling her too much. I worry that one day it'll be too much and she'll pack up and leave and never look back. But when I meet her gaze, I know I can't lie to her.

"How much did Mase tell you? About the club, I mean."

Her eyes shift to my chest, and she plays with the chain hanging around my neck. "I know you guys have business with a guy up in Tucson, and you supply a group in Mexico."

"And did he ever tell you what that business was? What we _supplied_?"

She nods but doesn't say anything.

"Well, the guy we bought from was found dead this morning with a bullet between his eyes and a crown carved into his face."

Her wide eyes flash to mine. "Caius?" she whispers.

"We're pretty sure he's back ... or close enough that I'm worried he could hurt you again."

"Tucson is too close, Edward."

"I know, and that's why I need you to be okay with Crow following you around." I pull her closer, murmuring against her forehead. "At least until that son of a bitch shows himself. Then I promise we'll never have to worry about him again."

* * *

Tensions are high the next day at the shop. Pop avoids me, and I can see the strain this shit is putting on the club. Most of us who work in the shop are of the mind that we should lay low for now, avoid any unnecessary risks until the smoke clears.

Or at least until it doesn't feel like the walls are closing in on us.

Jacob Black is too close. Riley is dead—along with our connection to the guns. García is only going to be held off for so long before he gets impatient. And now Caius is back in town. If we can just put off García for a little longer, give ourselves time to deal with Caius, and manage to keep Black out of our business, we'll be fine.

I just worry about what might happen in the meantime.

* * *

A week later, Pop thinks he has a line on a new guy. Some guy named Collin in Albuquerque is supposed to be able to hook us up with whatever we need. And since Tracker was able to come through with a truck, Pop wants to move a shipment nearly ten times what we usually deliver. At last night's church meeting, Pop suggested we look for storage space to expand our operations, but he's waiting until he finds a location to put it to a vote. It still has me feeling unsettled this morning.

"He's gambling with everyone's lives, Mac," I murmur around a cigarette, the stress of all this shit finally making me cave. "He needs to go."

"You finally think we should bring it to a vote?"

I nod, flicking the ash away. "I do, but we're gonna need to have a few more people on our side." I watch the guys milling around outside the clubhouse, considering which ones we could convince Pop doesn't have the club's best interests at heart. "We can count out Tracker. He's as greedy as Pop. Tank seems to be on our side. He's been around long enough to know shit like this doesn't end well. Trigger and Hawk?" I shake my head. "I don't know." I turn to Mac. "If I call for the vote, I don't get a say, which means we need to get at least two more people with us to pass it. What do you think?"

"I think Tank is a safe bet. Since they found Riley, he's been pretty vocal about not liking where all this is going. But as far as another vote?" He blows out a long breath. "You're right about Tracker. He was quick to jump on finding another way to move this shit. Buzz is just now getting a taste of the cash. He's too young, so I don't think we should even bother asking him. Trigger is too unpredictable, I think. Hawk is probably our best bet. He was pretty shaken up last week, right?"

I nod, taking another drag, the smoke I've avoided for so many months burning my nostrils as I exhale through my nose. "He was. And that gives us the votes, right? If Tank and Hawk are with us?"

"It does. But now we have to convince them Carl needs to step down."

Mac and I find Tank in the small room in the clubhouse he uses as an office. He's staring off into space, lost in thought.

"Hey, Tank. Got a minute?"

"For you boys, absolutely." He shuffles around some papers he's pretending to be working on and folds his arms over the table, leaning forward. "You both look like you have quite a bit on your minds."

"We do," I admit, sitting in a chair across from him. "I'm trying to figure out how to handle my old man."

Tank raises a brow. "I'm guessing you're not happy about the storage space idea?"

"Among other things. Can you honestly tell me you're feeling good about where Pop is taking the club?"

He breathes a heavy sigh. "I can't say that I do, but it doesn't matter. Everything we've agreed to went to a vote, and the club decided it was the right thing to do."

Mac leans forward and speaks up. "But that was before Riley was killed, Tank. And it was before our errands turned into major shipments. With the amounts they're talking about moving ..." He shakes his head. "We all know it's a bad idea."

Tank crosses his arms over his chest. "You're not making the run, so it's a moot point."

"It's not a moot point, Tank, and you know it." I point toward the closed door. "He's talking about finding a goddamn warehouse to store the guns. Truckloads of them. Are you prepared to handle the fallout if something goes wrong?"

He scrubs a hand over his face and grunts, finally making eye contact with me. "Whether or not I think it's a good idea makes no difference now, E. The vote passed, and almost everyone was on board. Our hands are tied."

"But what if they're not?" Mac asks, Tanks eyes snapping up to meet his.

"What do you mean?"

It's my turn to lean forward, my forearms coming to rest on the tabletop. "We mean what if there's something we can do to change it?"

Tank's eyes flash to Mac and back to me. "What are you talking about?"

I take a deep breath and blow it out. "I'm talking about Carl being a shit leader for this club. And I want to bring a vote of no confidence to the table."

Tank pulls away, leaning back in his chair. "E, that's ... that's a huge step."

I slowly nod. "It is."

"And if it doesn't pass—"

"I know it's a risk, I know I'd be transferred, but it's a risk I'm willing to take." I meet his eyes, and I know the moment he sees it.

"There's more, isn't there?"

"There is." I tell Tank all about the shit Pop's pulled, about his knowledge of my own mother stealing from my brother for so many years, about Pop's refusal to force Esme to repay Bella the money she stole. I let him in on the secret that Alice isn't Carl's, tell him all about my mother's affair with Charlie and my suspicions that it's clouding my father's judgement. As I expected, Tank listens with quiet contemplation, not giving anything away until I'm done pleading my case.

When Tank finally speaks, it's with reservation. "You're sure he knew about the money?"

"He's known about it since last summer."

He nods, staring at the papers spread out on the tabletop. "That definitely changes things."

"If I put it to a vote, do I have yours?" I ask.

Tank finally meets my eyes. "I've been around a while, kid. Been part of this club since before your old man patched in. We've had a lot of opportunities come and go. We took some of them, and we let some of them go. But we always looked out for each other. This is the first time your father—or any other club president, for that matter—has ever put the money above the club, above his own family. I've gone along with it because the vote passed. I figured your father could keep his head. But now ..." He shakes his head, another dejected sigh escaping him. "Yeah, kid, if you put it to a vote, you have mine."

* * *

Our conversation with Hawk is less promising. Even after hearing our reasons, he doesn't seem sold on the idea of voting out Carl.

"I'll have to think about it, man," he says, turning to walk back inside the clubhouse.

"That didn't go as well as I hoped it would," Mac says beside me. "But he knows. All we can do is hope for the best." He turns to face me. "Now, the question is when do you want to call a meeting?"

"He's still got to pass the final plan for the run and the warehouse idea, if it's still a viable option. I'll wait until then."

I start to walk toward my bike, but Mac reaches out and grabs hold of my bicep. "E, you know what happens if your vote doesn't pass, right?"

"Yeah, I know. I'll be forced to transfer."

"You ready for that? To be forced out?"

"I don't have much choice, do I? I can't stand by and let him do this ... put everyone in danger over fucking money. I just have to hope Tank _and _Hawk are with us. That'll give us the five votes we need."

But I don't get the chance to call a meeting. Early the next morning, before I even flip on the lights in the shop, my phone rings, and yet again, everything changes in the blink of an eye.

"_E, you need to get down to McCarty's_," Crow says in a rush.

"What's wrong?" I'm already headed for my bike when what he says stops me dead in my tracks.

"_The whole studio, man ... it's burned to the ground_."

* * *

**A/N: There was a whole lot going on this chapter. Things they are changing, and I'd love to hear what you thought of this one! **

**I'll probably be keeping the weekly, alternating updates for Clutch and Shift for a while longer. While I'm officially done writing Shift—it will be complete at 22 chapters—I only have (almost) two chapters of Clutch in the bank. But with the writing stage of one story done, I can focus on the other and hopefully get back to posting both of them weekly. Thanks for being so understanding. **

**The best way to stay up to date with what I'm up to, check out my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I'd love if you all could join us. I'm also on Twitter at CSunshine1220. **

"**See" you next week! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

******Lots of love  
****~Sunshine**


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

**Songs:**

**Tomorrow Will Be Kinder, The Secret Sisters  
****Overblown, Mudhoney  
****State Of Love And Trust, Pearl Jam  
****Knockin' On Heaven's Door, Guns N' Roses**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter one.**

* * *

****Fiddling was had. Words were added. All mistakes are mine. **

* * *

**Bella**

With one arm wrapped around my waist and the opposite hand covering my mouth, I watch as firefighters work through the rubble, putting out hotspots. The residual heat radiates from the smoldering heap, wafting to where I stand on the other side of the street. A crowd has gathered to watch, and a pissed off Rosalie is front and center as her livelihood crumbles to ashes. Emmett stands behind her trying to hold her together.

The familiar sound of a motorcycle rumbles over the commotion of the trucks and onlookers. I turn to watch Edward park his bike before he rushes toward me.

"I got here as soon as I could." He pulls back and cradles my face in his hands. "Why didn't you call me? Why did I have to hear it from Crow?"

I place my hands over his and meet his sharp stare. "I would have, but"—I jerk my head toward a now-crying Rose—"she needed me."

He pulls me into his chest and wraps his arms around me. "You weren't inside, were you?"

I shake my head and look up at him. "It was almost out when I got here this morning. Whatever happened, it happened last night."

"So, no one was in there?"

"As far as we know, no."

"Do they know how it started?"

"Not yet. The captain told Rose it could be weeks before an official cause is determined." I look over my shoulder at my boss and friend. "What is she going to do, Edward?"

"Hey," he says, nudging my chin to face him, "that's what insurance is for. It might take a while, but she'll be okay."

"And what about me? I'm out of a job for the foreseeable future."

He sighs and looks toward the smoking pile of rubble. "I think we need to talk about a few things when we get home."

His tone immediately has me on edge. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. We just have some decisions to make, okay? You trust me?"

"You know I do."

Walking over to Mac and Rose, we stand with them until they have a chance to speak to the officials. When Rose insists on staying to answer questions, Edward and I head out. I expect him to go back to the shop, but he follows me home with Crow taking the lead.

With Edward's insistence I stay between them, I know something is definitely wrong. It makes me even more nervous than I already was. I drive white-knuckled down the road, my heart racing the entire way. When I finally pull into the garage, I feel like I can breathe again.

I gather up my bags and get out of the car, turning to look at the guys still lingering in the driveway. Edward and Crow are having what looks like a serious conversation, so I go inside and practically collapse into the sofa.

The front door closes, and Edward shouts, "Bella?"

"In here."

He turns the corner and smiles. "I wondered where you disappeared to." He takes the spot beside me, pulling me close and kissing the top of my head.

"It looked like you two were talking about some heavy stuff, and I didn't want to interrupt you."

"I was just filling him in on some club garbage."

I look up at him. "_Is_ it garbage? I can't help but think the fire at the studio is somehow connected to the mess you guys are in."

He sighs. "I think it is, too, which is why we need to talk."

My gut tightens at his choice of words, and I pull away, sitting up. "What do we need to talk about?"

He purses his lips as his gaze locks with mine. "I think we need to make some serious decisions about what's next for us." He blindly reaches for my hand, and I willingly give it. "I think it's time we pack up and get the hell out of here."

My exhale is long, and my reply leaves my body on a breath. "Oh."

"I want to start packing up the house and get with a realtor about putting it on the market. I want to be ready to move to Washington as soon as the boys are out of school."

"Really? You're ready to leave? Leave the club, your family? I thought you said—"

"I know what I said. And it's still true. We have another, what, two months until school is out? Whatever needs to be settled here with the club will be over and done by then."

"And if it's not?"

He pushes my hair behind my ear and cups my cheek, the look in his eyes intensifying. "Then I'm out. Things have only gotten more out of hand since we first talked about moving to Washington, and I'm ready to get out. Whether it's on good terms or not remains to be seen."

"What do you mean? Good terms?"

"It means things are changing, and I'm ready to show my cards."

* * *

The days that follow are ... unpleasant. Edward is testy and short-tempered, and the boys do nothing to help his mood. He takes calls at odd hours and spends more time than usual at the clubhouse.

Even though I know there are several things at play, rivalries growing and getting more tense with every passing day, my old insecurities start to surface. I'm reminded of the nights Masen would spend at the clubhouse, disappearing for days after we had an argument. Many of those nights, he occupied his time with someone else. It's hard to keep irrational thoughts of Edward doing the same at bay.

And even though I know in my heart of hearts he would never betray me like that, I need to _see _him. I need to know what's keeping him away from home. I need him to hold me and reassure me, to tell me everything is okay ... that _we're_ okay.

It's what has me dropping the boys off with their aunt one Friday night.

"You're sure you don't mind?" I ask Alice as the boys run past her toward their media room.

"Remember, use your controllers, not Uncle Jazz's," she shouts over her shoulder. She turns to me and smiles. "You know I don't."

"Thanks. I shouldn't be long. Maybe an hour or—"

She reaches for my hand and squeezes. "Hey, it's okay. Just let me keep them for the night. Isn't that what sisters are for?" she asks with a bright smile.

The day we told Alice that Charlie Swan was more than likely her biological father was one I'll never forget. Through angry tears, she accused Edward of keeping it from her when she found out she'd been kept in the dark for almost a week. But there were also tears of happiness when she realized we were sisters. And while she and I have had our moments over the years, the knowledge that we were related by blood has given our relationship a new lease on life.

"You go sort out whatever you need to," she continues, snapping me out of my memories.

"Oh, I don't—"

"You do." She steps outside onto her porch and closes the door behind her. "Look, Jazz said some heavy stuff was going on and I should be prepared for all hell to break loose soon."

"Yeah, Edward said the same thing."

"Then go figure it out. We both know you won't be able to think about anything else until you do."

As I pull up to the clubhouse, I can hear the music coming from inside. A couple of members and a few hang-arounds linger outside, and all of a sudden, I'm not sure this is a good idea. I don't have much luck with showing up unannounced at this place.

"You're his old lady," I say to myself. "You have every right to be here." With all the confidence I can muster, I grab my purse and hop out of my car.

"Hey, B," Tracker shouts as I approach.

"Hey, Tracker. Is E here, or is he out on a run?"

He grins as he looks at Trigger then back to me. "No, he's in there somewhere."

"Thanks." I walk past him toward the door.

As I knew it would be, it's a full house. The the drinks are flowing, and it's the kind of party atmosphere I expected to find on a Friday night. I scan the room, looking for Edward, but don't see him anywhere.

"He's in his room, B," Mac says, slinging an arm around my shoulders, beer in hand. "Come on. He'll want to see you." Mac's protective hold doesn't loosen as he guides me down the hallway.

"What are you guys up to?

His grin makes his dimples prominent. "Super secret stuff. Come on."

Approaching Edward's door, my stomach starts to tighten as horrible memories assault my mind. It was this hallway where I first found out Masen cheated as he answered his door in a towel, some nameless blonde in his bed behind him.

I squeeze my eyes closed as Mac reaches for the knob and nudges me inside. They fly open when I hear his voice.

"Hey, baby." Edward's smile lights his face, and even though he looks exhausted, he looks genuinely happy to see me. "Where are the boys?"

The tension I've been feeling leaves me in a rush and I sag against him when he stands to hug me. "They're with Ali."

"Guess that means I'll have kids sprawled out in the media room when I get home," Jazz says from somewhere behind me.

I turn around and see him sitting on top of the dresser. Mac flops down into the armchair, pulling Rose onto his lap. "Oh, I didn't know you were all in here." I look back to Edward. "Am I interrupting anything?"

He smiles and pecks my lips. "No. We were just talking shop." He pulls me with him as he sits on the bed, resting his back against the headboard and pulling me between his parted legs.

"Shop, huh?" I try to keep the irritation out of my voice, but it's difficult. He's here instead of being home with his family, after all.

"We were discussing the next steps for Rose and her studio and what it might mean for the rest of us."

"The rest of you?" I look over my shoulder and meet Edward's tired eyes. "What does the studio have to do with the rest of you?"

"We're all investors, sweetheart," Jazz answers. "We've all got a vested interest in what happens with Rosalie's studio."

Rose clears her throat. "I'm thinking about relocating."

My eyes widen. "Relocating? Where?"

"I think we need to wait until things play out before you make any final decisions, Rose," Edward says sharply. "Besides, you need to wait and see what the investigators decide. You may not have the capital to pick up and start over."

My gaze moves from Rose to Edward and back again. "Why not? I thought everything was insured."

Rose's jaw tightens as she snatches her husband's beer from his hand, guzzling it. Mac answers my question. "If it's determined to be arson, there's a good chance the insurance won't pay out."

"And that's a possibility?"

"Unfortunately, yeah, it is," Mac replies, rubbing his wife's back.

"I'm so sorry, Rose."

She gives a curt nod before whispering "Excuse me" and slipping out of the room.

"How is she, really, Mac?" I ask.

"Depressed. Angry. She's been so fucking pissed, and there's nothing we can do until the investigation is done."

"Can't say I blame her." Edward's arms tighten around me and I settle back into his embrace. "Is there anything I can do?"

Mac smiles. "No. We'll work it out. I mean, it might be tough, but even if the insurance doesn't pay out, she'll start over."

"But not here?" I ask, my gaze traveling between Mac and Jazz, theirs locked on the man behind me. I tilt my head back and look at Edward. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Jazz slaps his hands together and hops off the dresser. "I'm taking that as my cue to bounce." He turns to Mac. "You heading out?"

"Yeah. I'll grab Rose and hit the road." He steps toward the bed and fist bumps Edward. "Keep me in the loop about what's next."

"You got it. I have a feeling Pop is gonna want to call church in the next few days."

Mac nods and he and Jazz say their goodbyes, leaving us alone.

I squirm, turning around to face Edward, my arms coming to rest on his chest. "So, when are you going to let me in on the big secret? You've been pretty quiet about it all week."

He sighs as he runs his fingers through my hair before meeting my eyes. "I'm planning to call a vote of no confidence the next time Pop calls us for church."

"Dumb it down for the fender fluff, Edward."

He smirks. "You're hardly fender fluff, babe."

I raise a brow, growing impatient.

His grin fades, and I know whatever he's about to say is important. "I'm calling for a vote for Pop to step down as president."

"Oh. That's ..." Words escape me, the magnitude of what he's suggesting bringing me up short.

"Yeah. And depending on the results, I could be voted president or be made to transfer."

"Edward, that's—"

"It's what I want, Bella. Pop's been steering us in the wrong direction for months, and what he wants to do next needs to be stopped. I can't let him continue down this road or a lot of people could get hurt."

"How does it work?"

"I call for the vote, and everyone gets a say but me. It needs a majority to pass, and right now we have the votes if Tank and Hawk vote with us."

I run through the patched members in my head, coming up one short.

"Boomer is with us, too," Edward answers my unasked question.

"What did Rose mean when she said she might be relocating the studio?"

His smile returns. "How do you feel about helping her start up a new studio in Seattle?"

"Really? They want to move with us?"

"Jazz and Alice, too."

"But how will that work with the club? And why bother trying to remove Carl?"

"Because like I said, a lot of people could get hurt. I still care about these guys, Bella. If someone else is at the head of the table, I can leave this place behind in good conscience."

"And what about you? You've wanted to be part of the club since you were a little boy. Can you really walk away from it all?"

"Who said I was walking away?" A grin creeps across his face. "I hear Washington could use an Outcast chapter."

Tired and more than comfortable where we are, we decide to stay in his room for the night. The thumping of the music is oddly comforting, and once I'm dressed in one of his shirts and wrapped in his arms, I let it lull me to sleep.

I'm not sure how much time passes before the sound of Edward's phone ringing wakes us. He blindly searches the nightstand until he grabs the offending device.

"'Lo?" Edward's voice is gravelly, thick with sleep as he answers the phone.

My head is on his bare chest, and the soft sound of his murmuring has me falling back to sleep ... until he tenses beneath me.

"What? When?" He carefully slips out from underneath me, rolling to sit on the edge of the mattress. "Yeah, I'll call everyone and be there as soon as I can."

He ends the call and leans forward, his elbow resting on his knee as he holds his head in his hand.

I sit up and place my hand on his back, rubbing what I hope are soothing circles on his skin. "Is everything okay?"

He looks over his shoulder, but he won't meet my eyes. "No. They found Rooster up in Phoenix."

"Found him?"

Edward swallows hard, his gaze finally meeting mine. "Pop said he was on his way down here to make the next run with us, but he never made it."

"He's ... dead?"

He nods.

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure if it was random or if a Kingsman got to him. Either way, someone's fucking with us."

* * *

While Rooster was a nomad, not belonging to any particular chapter of the Outcasts, he was a frequent visitor to our small town. So, Edward and the rest of the club thought it was fitting to bury him here. And since he had no blood-related family, there was no reason not to.

After a church meeting to discuss who to reach out to for information on the shooting and to make all the necessary arrangements, things were set into motion. It took a few days to organize, sending calls to surrounding chapters so anyone who rode with him could pay their respects.

"As shitty as it sounds, the funeral is a blessing in disguise," Edward says when I ask him about the upcoming vote he wants to bring to the table at the next church meeting.

I run my hands over his t-shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. "How?"

He reaches past me and grabs his cut off the bed. "Because it gives us more time. More time to deal with Garcia. More time to—"

"I thought he was getting impatient?"

He nods as he pulls on his cut. "He is. But he can't exactly get pissy when we had a funeral to organize, can he?"

"I guess not."

"And more time also means whatever deal Pop's worked out for warehouse space could fall through. Every day we can push it back is a day in our favor." He leans in and kisses my forehead. "But don't worry about all that. It's something to deal with another day."

The funeral brings back so many memories. It was a little less than a year ago that we buried Masen, but this time I'm more of an observer than a participant. I ride on the back of Edward's bike and stand at the back of the crowd as Rooster is laid to rest.

The turnout this time isn't as large, but there are still a lot of people. I try to blend in, choosing to stay on the periphery. But as I scan the crowd, I look twice when I spot a familiar face. The mere sight of Esme makes me sick to my stomach. She's at the rear of the pack, shrouded in sunglasses and making her own attempt at blending in. If Edward or Carl were to spot her, I'm sure it wouldn't be pretty. I have to wonder why she'd risk showing her face.

Shaking my head, I turn back to the service, deciding to put Esme and her motivations for being here out of my mind. When the men pick up the shovels, I take a breath, knowing what's to come next. The process is similar to what was done the day of Masen's funeral; a few members from each chapter scoop a mound of dirt into the grave before handing the shovel to the next man. But this time there's little emotion. In fact, I can almost _see_ the tension between the club members from the local chapter.

After the chaplain says a few more words, the service is brought to a close, and instead of dispersing, everyone stands around to talk.

Edward leans in and whispers in my ear. "Hey, I need to go talk to someone. You'll be okay for a few minutes?"

I smile up at him. "I should be."

He kisses the side of my head. "Thanks. I shouldn't be too long, then we can ride over to the clubhouse."

As Edward disappears into the crowd, I catch Esme in the corner of my eye, retreating from the crowd, silently slinking away like the viper she is. When I can no longer see her, I breathe a sigh of relief.

Watching the club members interact with each other, I can clearly see the dissension among the ranks. Edward, Mac, Jazz, Boomer, and Tank all gravitate toward each other while Carl, Tracker, Hawk, Trigger, and Buzz do the same. And even though they're all there under the pretense of being part of the same club, being _brothers_, I can _feel_ the tension simmering beneath the surface.

"How are you holding up?" Alice asks as she steps to my side, wrapping an arm around my waist.

"Fine."

"It's weird, being back here so soon, isn't it?"

"It is."

"Are you sure you're okay? Being here has to bring back a lot of memories."

I smile, but even I know it's half-hearted. "I'm okay."

"I wish ..." She shakes her head and grins. "I have to wonder how Mase would have reacted to finding out I wasn't _his _sister but _yours._"

The thought makes me chuckle. "I think he would have made a joke about hooking up with his sister's sister."

She grins. "He was a goofball sometimes, wasn't he?"

"He was."

She lays her head on my shoulder and whispers, "I miss him."

I tilt my head against hers. "I miss him, too."

We allow the moment to pass, and eventually, Alice sighs and pulls away. "So, how are my favorite nephews? Did they get a better offer for the day?"

"Yeah, I left them with Mrs. Tanner, my old neighbor. They'd much rather stay behind and play than sit through this."

"Tell them I'm still waiting for a rematch on their game."

"I will."

She's soon called away, and when I search for Edward, he's locked in a discussion with a member from another chapter. Deciding not to interrupt, I walk down the path, straying farther from the crowd.

It's not a conscious decision, but I end up standing at Masen's headstone. It's the first time I've visited since the day I read the letters he left for us, and a swift pang of guilt runs through me.

I should have come before now.

I lay my hand on the sun-warmed granite and close my eyes. If I think hard enough, I can see his smile, hear his laugh in my memories. It's something I sometimes see and hear from our son. And now, all these months later, I'm beginning to be able to look back and smile about the good times we had together. We may have decided to end our marriage, but he was my best friend for so many years ... and I miss him. I miss the person he was before everything fell apart.

The air changes behind me, and soft footfalls grow imperceptibly louder as someone nears. My heart races, and I'm scared to turn around to see who's caught me by myself. And when I hear a voice I was sure I'd never have to hear again, an icy finger of dread runs down my spine.

"I was hoping to get you alone."

* * *

**A/N: I'm sure you have your guesses on who's lurking in the bushes. And for those of you reading Shift, yes, the scene Bella refers to with finding out Masen cheated will be in the final chapter. I'd love to hear what you thought of this one! **

**A yucky bug has hit the Sunshine house, so I'm not sure updates will be weekly or if they'll be delayed. I'll do my best to stick to the alternating weekly schedule, but I'm not making any promises at this point. I'm still working on the final chapters of this story, so hang in there with me. I'm currently working on ch 39 with I think three more planned after that, including an epilogue.**

**Thanks for being so understanding. **

**The best way to stay up to date with what I'm up to, and what my posting schedule is, check out my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I'd love if you all could join us. I'm also on Twitter at CSunshine1220 with teaser pics. **

"**See" you next week, I hope! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

**Songs:**

**Leave It All Behind, Five Finger Death Punch  
****Gimmie Shelter, Paul Brady & The Forest Rangers  
****I Gave You All, Mumford & Sons****  
****The In-Between, Evanescence**

* * *

**Bella **

Hearing Esme's voice is unexpected, and I spin on my heel.

"I'm not surprised you'd sneak away to visit the bastard," she says, stepping from the shadows, her voice weaker than I remember.

Seeing her up close is shocking. Dressed in jeans and an ill-fitting blouse, she's not the polished version of herself I'm used to seeing. Her roots have grown out, and now that her sunglasses are resting on top of her head, I can see how haggard she looks. The dark circles under her eyes make me think she hasn't slept well in months.

I stand tall and hold my chin high. "What do you want?"

She offers me a weak smile, and it looks like it's killing her to do it. "Thought we could talk ... catch up."

"You and I have said everything we've needed to say."

"Oh, I doubt that."

I sigh, growing tired of her already. "What are you doing here, Esme?"

"A friend was buried today. I came to pay my respects."

I look toward the crowd still lingering around Rooster's grave and back to her. "I don't think you're welcome here."

She takes a few steps toward me. "I think they'd make an exception. Rooster was one of my boys, Bella, even if he was a nomad."

"Carl and Edward don't want you here."

She chuckles and shakes her head. "And you're telling me _you_ know what my son and husband want?"

"I know Edward said he's done with you, and I'm pretty sure Carl feels the same."

She opens her mouth then shuts it, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. She licks her lips and straightens her back, her eyes finally meeting mine. "I want to apologize."

My brow furrows, her statement catching me off guard. "Apologize?"

"I know I've made a mess of things, but I want to make things right. I thought talking to you would be a good place to start."

I stare at her, unwilling to fall for whatever trick she's trying to pull. And as I expect, it doesn't take her long to plead her case.

"All I've ever done is try to protect my family. Everything I did was with their best interests at heart. Surely, as a mother, you can understand that."

"No, I don't understand. I don't think I'll _ever_ understand you or the things you've done." I turn back to Masen's grave, wishing Esme would just slink back into the shadows.

"I need something from you."

"What could you possibly need from me?" I look over my shoulder at her. "And what makes you think I'd do anything for you?"

"I've lost my son," she says, her voice cracking as tears well in her eyes. "My daughter won't speak to me. I need you to help me get them back. Even Carl would listen if you tried to help me. You're the only one who can convince them to give me another chance."

I can't stop the barking laugh from escaping me at her ludicrous suggestion. I turn and step behind Masen's headstone, folding my arms across my chest. "You want _me _to help _you_?"

"They'd listen to you, Bella. If they could see that the two of us have smoothed things over—"

"Sorry, but I'm not willing to lie to people I care about." An emotion I can't name bubbles up inside me, propelling me to point a finger in her direction. "How dare you come to me pretending like you want to apologize for the hell you put me and my family through? If you want your family back, _you _have to convince them to give you another chance. Because as far as I'm concerned, the only thing they need to be protected from is you."

She reaches for my hand, squeezing it. "Please, Bella, I'm begging you. I'll do anything." Her eyes are wide, frantic as she pleads with me. "I'll ... I'll pay back the rest of the money I owe you. When they all forgive me, as soon as I can get back to the shop, I can start paying you. Or maybe ... I know you're out of a job right now. Maybe you can work at the shop and—"

I yank my hand from hers.

"Please, Bella, I—"

"What is wrong with you?" I'm sure the disgust I have for her is written all over my face. "Quit groveling. You're embarrassing yourself."

"But I can—"

"The only thing I want from you is for you to be gone."

Fire ignites in her eyes, and the Esme Cullen I'm more familiar with shines through. "This is all your fault," she hisses. "None of this would have happened if you and that bastard husband of yours had left years ago."

"If you really believe that, you're out of your fucking mind. All the shit you did—stealing Masen's money for years, doing what you could to turn Carl against his own son, hell, even getting knocked up by my fucking sperm donor and lying about it— blew up in your face. _Trust_ me, they want nothing to do with you now. You've done nothing but lie and cheat for the last thirty years, and fucking _finally_, everyone knows what you've done._ You're _the only threat to your family, Esme, and you have no one to blame but yourself."

More than done with this conversation, I step around the headstone and try to walk around her, but she grabs my arm.

"You're going to regret not leaving when you had the chance."

I wrench my arm from her grasp. "The only thing I regret is not seeing you for the snake you are sooner than I did. If you live to be a hundred and I never see your face again, it'll be too soon."

Determined to put as much distance between us as I can, I walk away from her and toward her son, who's stalking toward me.

"What the hell is she doing here?" he growls when I reach him, focusing on the woman in the distance.

I push against his chest, stopping him from walking past me to get to his mother. "She wanted to talk to me."

My statement brings him up short, and his blazing eyes meet mine. "What the fuck did she want?"

"Nothing important."

He looks toward his mother for a moment before once again meeting my eyes. "What did she say to you, Bella?"

I huff a breath and grab his arm, forcing him to walk with me. "She wanted me to beg you and Alice and your dad to give her another chance."

"I hope you told her to fuck off."

I smile and look up at him. "Better. I told her she was crazy."

He laughs and leans down to kiss me. Slinging an arm around my shoulder, he pulls me to his side. "Come on. They're expecting us at the clubhouse soon."

As we walk away, he looks over his shoulder, taking one last look at the woman who's caused so much damage to all our lives.

* * *

"Do you guys want to watch a movie tonight?" I ask the boys as I steer the full shopping cart toward the car. It's somewhere between twilight and dusk, not quite dark enough yet for the lights in the parking lot to flicker to life.

I don't like to go grocery shopping this late, but it's my own fault. Edward had a run that would keep him away from home until well past bedtime, and after the boys were home from school, I'd gotten caught up in packing our closet. Before I knew it, the day was nearly over, and I had nothing planned for dinner.

"I wanna play Xbox tonight," Seth says as he shoves a cookie in his mouth.

I sigh. "I wish you'd wait until we get home, Seth. You're gonna spoil your dinner if you eat all the cookies."

He grins, his smile looking so much like Edward's. "I'm a growing boy, Aunt Bella."

Crow, my constant shadow these days, chuckles from behind us.

I shake my head and smile. "Ten years old and already a charmer," I murmur to myself.

"Hey, give me a cookie," Sam demands, reaching for the package in Seth's hand. "I'm a growing boy, too." He looks up at me and mumbles around a mouth full of Oreo. "I want to watch Avengers again, Mommy."

"Maybe we can do both. It's not a school night." As we approach the car, I press the button on the key fob, unlocking the doors. "Get buckled in while I unload the bags, okay?"

The boys scurry past me and climb into the car, bickering loudly over the cookies.

"Cut it out, you two, or I'll take the damn cookies away."

"Sorry, Mommy."

"Yeah, sorry, Aunt Bella."

I open the rear hatch and unload the bags into the back.

"You need any help with that?" Crow asks me.

I smile over at him. "No, I got it. Thanks, though. Go ahead and hop on your bike. It won't take me long."

"Just shout when you're ready to go."

"I will. Thanks."

Crow walks toward his bike a couple spots over. As I load a case of bottled water into the back, a shout from inside the car makes me whip my head up ... just in time for Sam to jump out and stomp toward me.

"He won't share the—"

I've seen movies when something sudden and dramatic happens. The director slows the film speed, and time all but stops as you watch it play out onscreen. Sounds slow down, time lags so you can take in every detail. But the reality of a moment like the one to follow is more like a million things happening at once, and all in the blink of an eye.

The unmistakable pops of gunfire are followed by shattering glass and people screaming. Instinctually, I dive for Sam, wrapping my arms around him and taking us both to the ground. The sound of squealing tires and Crow shouting after them barely registers over the rush of blood in my ears and the commotion around us.

I try to roll over to check my son, but a burning pain shoots through my side, causing me to squeeze my eyes closed and grit my teeth.

"Mommy!" Sam screams while Seth shouts for me from inside the car.

Their panicked cries force me to open my eyes. "Boys? Are you okay?" I look down at Sam, and my heart nearly stops beating. His eyes are closed, and he's crying. "Baby? Sammy?"

"It hurts, Mommy! It burns!" His breaths come quicker, and I know he's headed straight for an asthma attack.

My hands frantically run over his small body, searching for where he was hit. When my hand lands on his arm and comes away covered in blood, a sob breaks free from my chest. "Oh, god."

"Mommy ... it ... hurts," he says, gasping for breath between every word.

"It's gonna be okay," I say, reassuring him as I put pressure on his arm and cradle his bleeding head against my chest. "Mommy needs you to calm down, baby. Slow breaths, Sam."

"Shit!" Crow screams as he runs over. "Bella, where were you hit?" His voice changes pitch as he calls over his shoulder. "Someone call 911!" One of his large hands comes to rest on Sam's forehead and the other on my cheek. "Hang on, hon. Just hang on."

"Is Seth okay?" I try to look over, but tears cloud my vision.

"Seth!" Crow shouts. "You okay, bud?"

"Are Aunt Bella and Sam okay?" he replies.

"I'm okay, Seth." I close my eyes and try to breathe through the pain. "I need you to stay with Crow until you can get to your dad or Aunt Alice, okay?"

"'Kay."

My eyes flutter open and I stare up at Crow. "Get him to Alice until Ed—" I burst into tears and hold Sam tighter.

"Shh," Crow says, pulling a pool towel from my car and placing it over my side, holding pressure over it. "Don't worry about him. He'll be fine." He meets my eyes. "You'll all be fine."

Time seems to drag while we wait for help, and just when I start to question if they'll ever show, I hear sirens in the distance.

"They're almost here." Crow's voice grows more faint. He pats my cheek and my eyes fly open. "Hey, I need you to stay with me, Bella."

When the ambulances pull up and the EMTs rush over, I beg them to look at Sam first. They do, and then I almost regret asking when they pull him from my arms.

"Ma'am, you need to let us treat you both."

I nod as tears stream down my cheeks. "Just, please ... take care of my baby. He has asthma and—"

"We'll take good care of him."

The ride in the ambulance passes in a blurry rush. I'm strapped to a backboard with my neck stabilized by a brace since I hit the pavement hard when we went down, and I can't move. My head throbs, and the pain in my side is nearly unbearable. But the worst part is not knowing where or _how_ my son is. No matter how much I beg, they can't tell me how he is, only saying that he's in another ambulance being taken to the same hospital to be evaluated.

When we pull into the ambulance bay, I'm yanked from the back and wheeled down a hallway to a room. A medical team quickly assesses me, the doctor calling out tests he wants ordered.

"Please, find out how my son is," I beg.

"I'll find out what I can, okay?" the doctor replies. "But for now, I need to treat you."

"I don't care. I just—"

He grasps my hand and leans over me so he can meet my eyes. "I promise I'll find out, but I want you to let me help you. You won't be any good to your son if your injuries aren't treated."

"Please," I beg on a broken whisper. "I just need to know he's okay."

Something inside me snaps and I dissolve into sobs as they cut away my clothes. With the release of tears, sensation creeps in, and I start to feel the burning pain of my injury. But I bite down on it, use it to channel my focus. With the single goal of enduring whatever I have to so I can get to my son's side, I lie silently as they work.

The doctor rushes through his examination, making sure the shot I took to my side is the only one I sustained. He barks out an order for the ultrasound machine and quickly checks for internal bleeding. He puts a rush on the other tests he's ordered while he tries to staunch the blood flow of my wound. A nurse squeezes my hand before she leaves the room, promising she'll find out how Sam is.

The doctor determines the bullet did indeed pass through my side without damaging any major blood vessels or organs, and I don't need surgery. I'm numbed and medicated so he can suture the wounds, and the only thing holding me together is knowing when it's all over I'll be able to see my baby. It feels like hours to get through it all.

The nurse returns, letting me know Sam has been checked out by their best pediatric emergency attending on staff. A wave of relief causes me to break down again when I learn the shot to his arm was the only one. He has a minor concussion from hitting the pavement, and he'll use a sling to stabilize his arm for a while when he's eventually released. Thankfully, none of my baby's injuries are severe enough to warrant a transfer to a children's trauma center, but it's still enough to keep him here overnight.

When the last test is run and the final stitch is dressed, I'm finally allowed to leave my room in the ER.

"I'm making an exception," the doctor says as he pushes my wheelchair through the maze of hallways. "But I promised I'd get you to your son."

"Thank you," I rasp.

When we approach Sam's room, I spot Vicki's smiling face.

"I watched them bring him in," she says. "I hope it's okay that I sat with him until you could get here."

"Thanks, Vick." My eyes lock on my little boy, so small in the giant bed. An oxygen mask is on his face. His chest rises and falls with steady breaths. The thick bandages on his head and arm make clear how close I came to losing him.

I close my eyes as tears stream down my cheeks.

"I'll leave you alone," Vick whispers, placing her hand on my shoulder. "Use the call button if you need anything."

I nod but don't otherwise reply.

"And remember, Mrs. Cullen, you're still a patient," the doctor says from behind me. "I'll check into setting you up in here with your son so we can monitor you for the night. I don't think I need you to promise me you won't leave."

I open my eyes and turn to face him, giving him a small smile. "I'm not going anywhere. And thank you."

With a final nod, he leaves me alone with my son. Sam is sleeping peacefully, and I know he needs rest, to heal, but all I want to do is gather him in my arms and hold him. I settle for running my fingers through his hair and rubbing his back. It's probably more a comfort for me than for him, but I can't _not_ touch him.

A million thoughts run through my head, and all the what-ifs plague my mind. What if he had been closer? What if Seth had run after Sam and I couldn't cover both of them? What if the shot had been higher or farther to the left? _Why_ were we shot at? Was I the target? Were the boys? I know the club has enemies. Caius is lurking out there looking for revenge. García has been breathing down the club's neck about their next shipment. There's no way to know who shot at us or why. But all my thoughts lead me to the same conclusion.

I need to take my family and get away from this place.

I feel him before I hear him, and when his arms wrap around me from behind, the weight of everything comes crashing down on me. Tears fall from my eyes and quiet sobs rack my body, and Edward holds me through it all.

"I got here as fast as I could," he whispers, kissing the top of my head as he holds me. "He's okay, baby. Vick said he'd be okay."

"I know." I sniff and wipe a hand across my nose, blinking away the tears. "But he could have—"

He releases me just enough to come around and crouch at my feet. "But he wasn't. You weren't, Bella." He reaches for me, cradling my cheek in his palm. "I'm so fucking sorry I wasn't here to protect you." His eyes fall to the thickness under my hospital gown and his hand ghosts over where the bandages cover my wound. "I'm so fucking sorry."

"I'm okay." I offer him a sad smile. "I'll have a couple wicked scars."

"Jesus," he mutters.

"Crow called you?"

"He did. I was lucky to get the call. We were between towns and the cell service out there is pretty spotty."

"Was he able to get Seth to Ali?"

"Yeah. Crow stayed with him until she could come get him. She's keeping Seth tonight."

"They told me he wasn't hit, but—"

"He's fine, baby. I'm more worried about you and Sam right now."

I look over at my sleeping son. "I can't help but think if he'd been—"

He wipes an errant tear off my cheek. "Shh. He wasn't. He's gonna be okay."

Eventually, he pulls up a chair beside my wheelchair and we watch Sam sleep. Edward never lets go of my hand, and I couldn't be more grateful to have him with me.

"I need you to tell me what happened," he whispers.

I turn to face him. "I don't remember a whole lot. It was getting dark, and it happened really fast. All I remember is hearing the shots and grabbing Sam."

"You didn't see anything?"

I shake my head. "No. I'm sorry."

He wraps an arm around me and kisses the side of my head. "There's nothing to apologize for." He holds me for a long while before breaking the silence. "Jacob will probably show up tonight to talk to you."

"What do I tell him?"

"The truth. At this point, I don't care who finds out who did this." He holds me tighter, lowering his voice. "But I promise you, whoever did it is going to pay."

"Who would shoot an innocent little boy?" I whisper.

His grip on me tightens when he speaks, and I can't remember a time when he sounded more serious. "For the first time in a long time, I have no fucking idea what we're up against, Bella. I don't know if it was Caius or if García got tired of waiting on us and decided to send a message."

"Would García do that?" I whisper. "Go after a woman and little boys?"

"He's made it clear he knows your names. And to me, that's—"

"A threat," I finish for him.

"Yeah."

The nurses come in to check on Sam, and eventually, one comes in to let me know the last of my test results came back clear. She also says someone will be back soon with a bed for me to sleep in for the night.

When we're finally alone again, I don't have to give voice to what's been running through my head for hours; Edward does it first.

"I want you and the boys to leave town."

I pull back to put a little space between us. "What?"

"I want you to leave town."

"Just me and the boys?"

He nods, his gaze fixed on Sam. "When you're released, we'll pack up what you need, and then I want you to take the boys to Washington." He finally has the courage to look me in the eye. "I'm not going to wait around for someone else to try and hurt one of you again."

"You're not coming with us?" I whisper.

Pain fills his eyes as he stares at me, his voice barely more than a whisper. "You know I can't leave yet."

Sadness and anger war inside me. "You could if you wanted to."

"The club—"

I whisper yell through gritted teeth. "I'm so tired of the goddamn club having so much control over my life, Edward. And I'm tired of the men in my life putting it before me!"

"I'm not—"

"And now our children's lives are in danger because you pissed off the wrong people."

"But if you leave, you'll all be safe."

I laugh bitterly as tears well in my eyes. "But without you." I swipe at my cheeks and stare at the ceiling. "Unbelievable." I turn to face him. "When are you going to realize the club's not worth it anymore?"

"I told you, when everything is settled and everyone is safe, I can leave. You know my reasons for needing to stay and see it through."

I shake my head. "No, just last week you told me if things didn't work out you were done anyway. Why not just go now?"

"Because I can't."

We sit in a silent standoff until finally, tears sting my eyes as realization sets in. "You'll really let us go without you?"

He nods, and his eyes shine. "I'll be with you and the boys as soon as everything is done here, but I can't leave until it's all settled." He takes my hand in his, his touch doing little to calm me. "You and the boys are the most important things to me, and I'd go if I could, but I need you to trust me this time."

I yank my hand away. "Trust you?"

"Yes, Bella, trust me. I need to finish this, so we'll _all _be safe. Even if I left now, some of this shit could just as easily follow me to Washington. You and the boys won't be safe until it's all dealt with."

"You don't have to stay and clean up this mess. Your father got the club into it, and he can get them out of it."

"It doesn't work like that. And if anything, he'll just get us all deeper into it."

I turn and narrow my eyes on him. "You're willing to let your family go? Just so you can stay here to fix a mess you didn't create?"

He clenches his jaw and stares me down. Both determination and resignation shine in his gaze. I know before he opens his mouth that he's not coming with us.

He swallows thickly and takes my hand. "I want you to take our boys away from all this. Washington is the safest place for you guys. As much as I hate the thought of you leaving, you need to go. But you have to understand, I can't leave right now."

I yank my hand from his and cross my arms over my chest, scoffing and spitting words I don't really mean ... words meant to hurt. "Why am I not surprised? Your brother always put the club ahead of us, too."

"It's not like that, and you damn well know it."

"Isn't it?"

"No, goddamnit! It's not. I already lost you once. I'm not going to—"

It's my turn to reach for his hands. "Then come with us. Please. I can't ... I can't lose _you_, Edward."

He swallows hard and blinks away the wetness in his eyes, his voice so low and raspy I can hardly hear it. "I can't. I'm sorry."

He wraps me in his arms and pulls me close, kissing the side of my head as his hold on me tightens. Watching my sleeping son, I allow my tears to fall. "I'm sorry, too."

* * *

**A/N: I think I'll go hide now. I'd love to hear your thoughts! **

**I'm slowly approaching the finish line with this one, and for now we're back to weekly updates ... unless I get down to the wire and run out of chapters. I'll keep you posted. **

**Shift is now complete if you were waiting for it to wrap up. I know it's not for everyone, but I'd love it if you'd give it a shot. **

**The best way to stay up to date with what I'm up to, and what my posting schedule is, check out my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I'd love if you all could join us. I'm also on Twitter at CSunshine1220 with teaser pics. **

"**See" you next week! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

**Songs:**

**In My Veins, Andrew Belle  
****Silhouettes, Of Monsters and Men  
****All I Want Is You, U2  
****Dangerous, Shinedown  
****This Means War, Nickelback**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1.**

****Fiddling was had. All mistakes are mine. **

* * *

**Edward**

"_You put my son on a plane _today, _Edward, or so help me God, I'll—"_

"Ang, he's perfectly safe with Ali and Jazz. As soon as Bella's—"

"_No! I want—"_ Her stifled sob twists the knife already in my heart. _"I want him here with me. It's obviously not safe there. I just want ... I want him home. Please." _

I swallow down the guilt I've felt since the moment I got the call about the shooting. My head tilts back and thumps against the wall as my eyes fall closed. "I'll do what I can."

"_That's not good enough."_

"It's all I got. Bella and Sam won't be released until tomorrow at the earliest, and I'm not leaving them."

"_You have forty-eight hours, Edward. If he's not here by then, I'm sending Ben down there to get him, and you'll be lucky if I ever let you see him again."_

"I'm sorry," I whisper, my throat thick.

"_You can keep your apologies. Do you have any idea what it was like to get that phone call? To hear your little boy tell you he was shot at? You promised me he'd be safe with you. You promised me!"_

"I'm sorry," I repeat as tears sting my eyes. Angela may be pissed at me, but no one is more angry with me than I am. I've failed to keep the people I care most about safe. I clear my throat. "I'll ask Ali to look at flights and go to the house to pack up his stuff."

"_Call me when you have a flight number."_

"I will."

Feeling utterly defeated, I end the call. I take a few deep breaths and rub at my eyes. When I open them, Mac is standing on the opposite side of the hallway.

"How mad is she?"

I scoff and shake my head. "She gave me forty-eight hours to get Seth to her."

He winces. "Damn, she must be pissed."

"That's putting it mildly. I'll be lucky she doesn't rip off my balls and toss 'em in a blender the next time she sees me."

"Give her some time to cool off."

I huff a breath but don't say anything. I know if someone put my kid in harm's way, I'd be out for blood. I can't fault Angela for how she's feeling.

"You okay?"

The laugh that escapes me is completely devoid of humor. "No." I look toward the door to Bella and Sam's room. "Maybe they'd all be better off without me."

"You don't mean that."

My head whips around. "Don't I?"

Mac takes two steps toward me and lowers his voice. "No, you don't. Because when this is over, it's gonna be _over, _E. Either we manage to wiggle out of all the shit Carl has us in or you're gonna cut all ties with the club so you can get your family out of here. One way or another, it'll all be over for you."

"I'm already getting them out of here."

"What?"

"I'm sending them to Washington. I can't wait around for someone to hurt them again." I grit my teeth. "They got too fucking close, Mac. I can't—"

He places his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. "Hey, they're okay, right? It wasn't serious."

I shrug off his hold on me. "Are you serious with that shit?"

"I'm just saying it could have been worse."

"What about next time? How close are they going to get? Fuck, they could be lurking outside right now, waiting to take another shot at us."

"Then they don't leave our sight. We'll have eyes on them until they leave. What time frame are we looking at?"

"We haven't talked specifics, but as soon as the doctors say it's okay for them to travel. Probably a few days."

He hesitates, his eyes never leaving me until, finally, he speaks. "I know this is gonna suck for a while, but in the end, you'll have your family. Hell, in a few months we'll _all_ be up there. We just have to get through this shit with the club first."

"That's if we all manage to get to the other side of it in one piece." I push off the wall and walk toward Bella and Sam's room. The bustling sounds of the ER quiet as I close the door behind me. Finally asleep, they're separated by only a couple feet. Even in her sleep, Bella's hand is outstretched toward her son. I pull a chair between their beds so I can be closer to both of them. I can't resist the urge to touch her, to feel her skin on mine, so I reach for her hand and cradle it in mine. I watch their chests rise and fall, their breathing even and deep, and soak it all in.

Because in a matter of days they'll both be gone.

"Hey," Bella whispers, her voice raspy.

"How are you feeling?"

A small smile dances on her lips. "Like I was shot."

"Funny." I reach up and cradle her cheek. "Really, how are you feeling?"

"The meds haven't worn off yet, so ask me again in a few hours." She looks over at Sam, and her eyes fill with fresh tears.

I get up to sit on the edge of her bed and pull her into my arms. "Hey, he's going to be fine, baby."

"I know, but—"

"Shh. You'll be out of here soon then we can get you both somewhere you'll be safe."

She wraps her arms around my waist and squeezes. "Please come with us. Please, Edward. I need us _all _to be safe. Please."

Not wanting to argue during what could be our final hours together, I don't reply. Instead, I hold her, trying to give her silent reassurance, some kind of comfort, because I can't lie to her. I can't tell her everything's going to be okay, that _I'll_ be okay, because I've never been more unsure of anything in my life.

* * *

Bandaged and weak, Bella sits on the bed folding and packing the clothes she asks me to bring her from the dresser.

"You just want hoodies and stuff, right?" I ask, digging through a drawer.

"Yeah. It's only April. I'm pretty sure the weather isn't all that great up there yet."

I nod but don't turn to face her.

"You can pack all the rest of it and bring it with you when you move up, right?"

I clear my throat, but my reply is still gruff. "Yeah."

I move around the room, grabbing what she asks me to, but the tension is thick between us.

Not only did we say goodbye to Seth yesterday, but we also spent all of last night fighting. Bella used every argument she could think of to get me to go with them, and when I wouldn't budge, she got angry. Harsh words were said, accusations were made, and all I could do was stand there and let her get it out of her system. I wanted to hold her, to memorize the feel of her skin on mine, but instead we spent the limited time we have left fighting an unwinnable battle.

And we've been dancing around each other since.

Bella and Sam are leaving tomorrow morning, and I feel like I'm holding on by a thread. All the people who mean the world to me are leaving, and once they're gone, I have no idea if I'll ever see them again. Just because it's the right thing to do—to send them away—doesn't make it any easier.

"I think that'll do it. I don't think my suitcase will hold any more."

I nod and pull an envelope from the dresser top, handing it over to her. "Here."

"What's this?"

"Some cash to help you guys get settled."

She peels back the flap and her eyes go wide. "Edward, this is too much. I can't—"

"I need you to take it. I know it might be a while before you can work, and I don't want you to burn through the money you have now." I wait for her to look up at me. "Please don't fight me on this," I whisper.

Her stare is intense, but she finally nods, relenting.

"Is there anything else you guys need to take with you?"

Her gaze is locked on the envelope in her lap as she shakes her head. "No," she says softly, wiping at her nose.

I push off the dresser and take the few steps toward her, tilting her chin up. "Hey." I brush a tear from her cheek. "What's wrong?"

"The only thing I want is for you to say you've changed your mind and you're coming with us."

"Bella, I've already—"

"I know." She smiles through her tears. "Then promise me this is only temporary. I want you to tell me you're going to fix everything that's broken and be in Washington by the end of the month."

I drop to my knees at her feet. "Baby, I promise you I'll be there the moment I can be."

"I just feel like this is it, you know? Like, if I walk out that door tomorrow, I may never see you again."

I cup her cheeks in my hands. "You know I'm going to do everything in my power to get to you as soon as I can."

"But you can't promise me, can you?" she whispers. "You can't promise me nothing else bad will happen. I want you to promise me I won't lose you, too."

Instead of lying to her, I kiss her lips. "I love you," I murmur against them and rest my forehead against hers. "You and the boys mean everything to me, and I'll move heaven and earth to get back to you. I promise."

Her hands cover mine and her eyes fall closed, twin tears tracking down her cheeks. "I'm going to hold you to that."

* * *

I toss the final bag into the back of Crow's car and close the trunk. "I appreciate you getting them to the airport."

"No problem, man." He holds out a fist for a bump. "I'm happy to do it."

I look toward the house. Sam and Bella are inside, doing a double-check to make sure they aren't forgetting anything. It's been four days since they came home from the hospital, and they're both still moving slowly. As I watch them walk down the path toward us, I worry that they'll have a rough flight.

"They'll be okay," Rose says as she steps up beside me.

I turn to her and give a weak smile. "Thanks for going with them."

She shrugs. "I've always wanted to see Seattle. It won't hurt to have some extra time to scout locations for a new studio." She leans in and whispers, "Mac and I are just pretending this isn't a reason to get me out of town early, too."

I wrap an arm around her shoulders and kiss the side of her head. "Just keep an eye on her," I whisper. "She's strong, but I'm not sure how much more she can take."

"I've got her."

I nod and release her when Bella and Sam reach the car. "You ready to go, kiddo?"

Sam scowls up at me. "Mom said you still aren't coming with us."

I crouch down in front of him. "She's right."

He crosses his good arm over his belly and juts out his chin. "Why not?"

My eyes flash to Bella before returning to Sam. "Because I need to finish up a few things here. I need to pack up the rest of the house and find somebody to buy it."

"Why can't you come with us now? Somebody else can do all that stuff."

The words almost get stuck in my throat, and I have to force a smile. "I wish I could, bud."

"You could if you wanted to." His words echo what his mother's been saying since they got home from the hospital, and I wonder if he's overheard any of our heated discussions.

I'm quick to change the subject. "Listen, I need you to do something for me."

His face scrunches and he tilts his head. "What?"

"I need you to take care of your mom. She's gonna need extra hugs since I'm not there. You and Seth can look out for her, right?"

He drops his gaze to the sidewalk and nods. "Yeah."

I tilt his chin up until his sad brown eyes meet mine. "I'll be there as soon as I can, Sam. Then we'll find a house and do all the fun stuff we couldn't do when we were there for a visit, okay?"

"You promise?"

I hesitate. Stories of Masen's broken promises to his son echo in my head, and the last thing I want to do is break another one. So, I settle on the only thing I _can_ promise him. "I promise you I'll do everything I can to get to you and Seth and your mom as fast as I can."

He wraps his good arm around my neck and squeezes. "I'll take care of Mom."

"I know you will, kiddo."

"I'm gonna miss you, Uncle E."

"I'm gonna miss you, too, Sam." Careful not to hurt his injured arm, I hold him as tightly as I can. When he releases me to climb into the car, it leaves Bella and me.

"He's trying to be strong for you."

I bark out a humorless laugh. "That makes two of us."

She steps closer, resting her hands on my chest. "You can still come with us."

My hands rest on her hips. "I'm sorry," I repeat for what feels like the millionth time.

She nods once and blinks away more tears. I'm honestly surprised she has any left. "Me, too."

"Call me when you land? Then when you get settled in at Angela's."

"I will."

"You ready, B?" Rose yells from the passenger seat as she winds down her window. "If we're going to make our flight, we need to hit the road, chica."

"I have to go," Bella whispers.

"I love you, Bella. Don't forget that."

She looks up, finally meeting my eyes. "I'm trying really hard not to. But it's kind of hard when you're putting the club before your family."

I wrap my arms around her and pull her as tightly to me as I can without hurting her. "I love you more than you'll ever know, Bella. It took so long for us to find our way back to each other. You have to know I wouldn't risk losing it unless it was important." I rest my forehead against hers and close my eyes. "I need to fix this," I murmur, feeling like a broken record. "Then we can put all this shit behind us. We can't really move on until it's done. I don't want it following us. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if it caught up to us."

"I think I'm just ready to be the _most _important thing to someone."

"Mommy! Let's go!"

I grin, even though my heart isn't really in it. "You already are."

She glances toward Sam as his head pops out of the rear car window. "Yeah, I guess I am." She looks back to me, her fists pounding weakly on my chest. "Don't go get yourself killed. I don't think I'm strong enough to go through losing you, too."

"I'll do everything I can to avoid that."

Again, she nods, her eyes falling back to my chest.

"I love you," I whisper as I kiss her forehead.

"I love you, too."

With nothing more to say, she climbs into the back of Crow's car and buckles her seatbelt, promising to call me when they get settled in at Angela's guest house. Watching them pull out of the driveway is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, because I have no idea when I'm going to see them again.

When my cell chimes from my pocket, I pull it out to check the message.

Looks like it's time for church.

* * *

"You okay?" Mac asks when I walk into the clubhouse.

I bypass the main room and head straight for the kitchen. "I'm good. What about you? Rose seemed okay with being sent with B." I grab a mug and pour some of the sludge Tracker likes to pass off as coffee into it.

Mac shrugs. "She wanted to check out the area anyway. This was a good excuse. She can have a few weeks to scout out some locations and get a feel for the area."

"That's what she said." I bring the mug to my lips and grimace when the nasty taste hits my tongue. "Ugh. What is this shit?"

He pulls a face. "I think Tracker taught Buzz how to make his _specialty _coffee."

"If I thought Tracker's tasted like shit, this has it beat." I dump it down the drain and turn to the fridge, hoping to find a Monster or Red Bull.

"You two work shit out before they left?"

I pull out a can and crack the top. "Not sure. We talked, but shit still feels unsettled." I guzzle down a mouthful, attempting to rinse away the taste in my mouth. "You guys hear back from the fire investigators?"

He shakes his head. "Not yet. It might take a few weeks."

"I'm sorry, man."

"Yeah, me too."

Pop's familiar call to the chapel comes from the other room.

"You ready to do this?" Mac asks me.

"If he puts the warehouse shit or anything else that has to do with moving garbage for García to a vote, yeah. I'm ready for all this to be over, man."

"Then let's do this."

Everyone takes their seats, and as soon as the meeting is called to order, I speak up.

"Do we have any leads on who shot at my family?" I ask, my sharp gaze landing on my father.

He hesitates, and my hackles go up. "No, not yet," he finally replies.

I turn to look around the room. "Nothing? What about talking to people who were there? Maybe they saw something."

Boomer narrows his eyes on Pop then turns to me. "Crow talked to a few people that night after Seth went with Ali. The only thing he could get was that a few people saw a blue sedan. No plate number, but they could make out it was from Nevada."

Trigger clears his throat. "I, uh, was able to talk to the manager of the grocery store. She said they talked to the cops, but there aren't any cameras in the lot. The only ones they have are inside the store. She mentioned maybe talking to the manager over at the bank across the street. They have CCTV of their lot, so if it was a drive by, there's a good chance the car was caught on video."

"How do we get a copy of that? It's digital, right?" I ask no one in particular, looking around the room. "There's got to be a way to at least see it, yeah?"

Trigger blows out a breath. "I'm not so sure the bank manager would be cooperative if we asked to see it. I can try to access the bank's server. If it's digital, there's a chance we can see it. But that shit can be complicated since it's a bank. I'm not sure I can get through the firewall. Otherwise, we'll have to try to talk Black into letting us have a look at it at the station."

"Like that shit's gonna happen," I mutter sarcastically, scrubbing a hand over my face. I reach for the pack of cigarettes on the table. "So, what's the next step? Do we just ask our friendly neighborhood deputy to let us see the video? Do we ask the witnesses more questions? Maybe someone was following them in the store. Maybe we should ask see the video from inside the store anyway."

Trigger shakes his head. "I asked the manager, and she already handed over the tapes to Black."

"Tapes?"

"Yeah. Actual fuckin' video tapes. They never converted to digital."

"Shit," I murmur. "So, what are our options? Do we go look for Caius? I can get a crew together and head up to—"

"No," Pop says, finally speaking up.

I turn to him with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean, _no_?"

"I mean we don't have the time or manpower to go on a wild goose chase. We have zero idea where Caius is, so we'd be looking for a ghost. We need to focus on what's in front of us right now, and that's the deal with García."

"That fuck could be behind this, too," I say through gritted teeth.

"Then it's all the more reason to make him happy, isn't it?" Pop's mocking smile sends fire through my veins.

"So, you're telling me I should just ignore the fact that someone tried to take out my fucking family—_your grandsons_—so we can keep the peace with the cartel?"

"I'm telling you our resources are better spent taking care of what we know. We know García is only going to be patient with us for so long before he sends a crew down here to remind us of our agreement. I don't know about you, but that's the last thing I want to happen."

I lean back in my chair, biting the inside of my cheek as I stare at the stranger at the head of the table. I've known for a while that greed was slowly taking root in that dark soul of his, but I always thought—when push came to shove—he'd put his family above anything else. When faced with the opportunity to find whoever's responsible for shooting Bella and Sam—for firing into the car where Seth cowered in the backseat—he'd rather appease the man who could be responsible, though. All because we have a business arrangement with him.

The urge to rip into my own father claws at my insides, threatening to tear its way through my skin.

And as Pop looks around the room, I eye the rest of the guys listening to his bullshit about the money we'll pull in. While Mac, Jazz, Tank, and Boomer all pass looks between them, the rest are hanging on every word spewing from Pop's mouth.

"It's not warehouse-big," Pop continues, yammering about the storage space he wants, leaning back in his chair like the self-appointed king he thinks he is. "But it's big enough for what we need. And more importantly, it's under the radar." He turns to Tracker. "You've got the truck lined up?"

Tracker nods. "I'll have the keys tonight if we're a go."

"Then I think it's time to put all this to a vote."

My eyes snap to Mac's then Tank's. This is it; it's time to call this son of a bitch out on his reckless leadership of this club before anyone else gets hurt.

"Okay," Pop continues, "we've got the warehouse and the run to—"

I scoot my chair back and prepare to stand, but Tank beats me to it.

"Actually, I want to bring something to the table first." Tank looks at me as he stands, but quickly turns his gaze to Pop. "Carl, I've been part of this club for a long time, and we've seen a lot of shit go down. I've stood by your side for all of it, but I can't stand by while you steer us down this road." He turns to look around the table. "I'm calling for a vote of no confidence."

Nervous glances pass around the room, but the one person who I expect to be staring a hole through Tank is burning one through me instead.

"Is that so?" Pop's head slowly turns, his fiery gaze falling on Tank. "Then by all means, let's do this." He leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest. "Hawk, as secretary, you're up."

Hawk blows out a heavy breath and slaps his hands on the tabletop before standing. He grabs a box off a shelf at the back of the room then walks around the table, passing out slips of paper and a pen to every man present, explaining the procedure as he goes. "Everyone but Tank gets a say, even Carl. It's a yes if you agree with the vote of no confidence, and it's a no if you don't. It's a blind vote, so no one will know who voted yes or no. Once they're all in, I'll read them off and count them. Everyone is here today, so there's no need for any proxy votes." He tosses the now-empty box on the table and sits. "Toss 'em in when you're done."

Pop's stare never leaves me as I scribble out my "yes" on the sheet. I fold the scrap of paper and toss it in the box before reaching for a new cigarette, masking my nervousness. At this point, the vote could go either way.

One by one, the slips of paper are tossed into the box, and when the final vote is in, Hawk grabs the box and gives it a shake. "With ten of us here, and Tank unable to vote, it needs five yes votes to pass." With another sigh, he grabs the first slip of paper. "One vote no."

As they're read, the bounce in my knee gets more noticeable. The next two votes are yes, then three more votes no. Two additional yes votes make it a tie, so it comes down to the final vote. As Hawk unfolds it, I meet Pop's sharp gaze.

"The last vote is no. The motion doesn't pass," Hawk says, a deafening silence falling over the room.

Still locked in a stare-off with my father, I can see his restrained rage. With a slow turn of his head, he looks around the room. "Is there any other business anyone wants to bring to my attention?" he bites.

When no one speaks, he nods once. "Okay, then. Tank, since you're obviously unhappy with the way I'm running things, I'll be expecting your request to transfer."

Tank nods. "You'll get it."

"As for the rest of you," Pop says, "we have other business to take care of."

When the votes about the warehouse space and the run for García are presented, it's more than clear where the line in the sand has been drawn. It passes, but not with the support of Mac, Jazz, Boomer, or me.

When the gavel falls, Pop leans in my direction, seething. "Don't think I don't know you're the one who put him up to that shit. I'm watching you, kid. You need to remember I'm the one who's running the show, not you. This is _my _club, Edward. You do what you gotta do to get your shit together. But in the meantime, stay out of my way."

Without another word, he pushes away from the table and storms out of the chapel, leaving me to wonder what the hell happens next.

* * *

**A/N: Any guesses on what will happen next? I'd venture to guess Pop isn't too happy with his son. I'd love to hear your thoughts! **

**There's a Holiday edition of our A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Images contest happening right now! It's an image contest with a 50 word limit (we want those pretty pictures!), and you'll find the details on Facebook and Instagram. **

**The best way to stay up to date with what I'm up to, and what my posting schedule is, check out my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I'd love if you all could join us. I'm also on Twitter at CSunshine1220 with teaser pics. **

"**See" you next week! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

**Songs: **

**Nothing to Lose But You, Three Days Grace  
****Silent Lucidity, Queensrÿche  
****Done All Wrong, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club**

***Link to YouTube playlist can be found in chapter 1. **

* * *

**Edward **

My blood is boiling as I watch everyone file out of the chapel. Like sheep following their shepherd, Hawk, Buzz, Trigger, and Tracker follow Pop out. My gaze snaps to the man who decided to stand in my place and call for the vote, and watch I him leave, too.

When the door to the chapel finally closes, I tilt my head back and close my eyes. "What the fuck just happened?"

"Fuck if I know," Jazz mutters. "Any bright ideas on what we do next?"

When no one has an answer, I open my eyes and look his way. "I think I just made things worse."

Jazz scowls in my direction. "Well, you've got a target on your back now. Your old man didn't look too happy when he stormed out of here."

"You could say that." I push away from the table and stand. "I'm gonna go find Tank and ask him what the hell he was thinking." I turn to face the rest of the guys when I reach the door. "Meet up at my place tonight. We need a new plan."

I bypass the main room and head down the hallway. Tank is in his room, pulling pictures from the wall and tossing them on the bed. I tap the side of my fist on the doorframe. "Do you want to tell me what the fuck that was?"

"It needed to be done." He looks over his shoulder at me and sighs when he sees the livid expression on my face. "Close the door."

I take a step into the room and close the door behind me. "Why did you need to do it? I was fully prepared to—"

He turns to face me. "I knew if it didn't pass, we'd need someone who could stop him, and you're the only one who can, E. I couldn't risk you being told to turn in your patch." He sits on the edge of his bed. "Your old man's out of control and in need of a serious wake up call, and I think you're the only one who has any chance of getting through to him."

"But you've been with the club forever, Tank. Why the fuck would you give this up? You helped found this damn club!"

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "I'm too old for games, kid." When he looks up at me, his smile is rueful. "When we started this club, we were a bunch of kids with nothing more than time on our hands and miles of road to explore. Yeah, we got into trouble, but it was the kind we could handle. I always believed we'd skirt the edge of right and wrong, that we'd ultimately do more good than bad and kind of even our chances when we meet the big guy upstairs. But lately ..." He looks down and shakes his head before once again meeting my eyes. "It needs to end."

* * *

I toss my keys on the kitchen table and pull my phone from my pocket. It feels like a lifetime since I last saw Bella and Sam, but it's only been a handful of hours. There is no message. There are no missed calls. Looking at the clock, I realize they probably haven't even landed in Seattle. I take my chances and call Angela to talk to Seth, but he's too distracted with making up for lost time with his baby sister to talk to his old man for very long.

Dejected and feeling sorry for myself, I head toward the shower to wash away the day. But walking past the boys' bedrooms causes my heart to seize up. So much so I rub at the physical ache in my chest. Seth's room is mostly packed; Angela insisted I send his things ahead of ours. Whenever I eventually get my ass up there, that is.

Sam's room is equally devoid of life. Instead of seeing his partially toothless smile, I'm met with a stripped bed and cardboard moving boxes. Unable to bear looking at the empty room another second, I close the door and walk into ours.

I'm not prepared for the crush of emotions that hit me when I step through the door.

Bella may have taken her basic necessities with her, but so much of her is still here. Her clothes still fill the drawers and closet. Some of her jewelry is still lying on top of the dresser. And beyond the physical, her _presence _is here. Her scent still hangs on the air. Everywhere I look, every breath I inhale reminds me she's not with me.

It's a special kind of torture knowing I'll be sleeping in our bed alone.

I shake off the feelings of self-pity and hit the shower, hoping the hot water clears my head. When I'm dried and redressed, the guys show up one by one.

Mac brings a couple of pizzas, Jazz brings a six pack, and Boomer was able to escape diaper duty long enough to join us.

"You got someone watching Maggie and Ollie?" I ask as he walks through the front door.

"Yeah." He heads straight for the kitchen and I'm right behind him. "I asked Crow to sit outside until I get back." He looks back at me. "You said he was cool, right?"

"He is."

He snags a slice and a beer and heads for the living room, plopping down onto the couch. He looks around the room. "So, what did I miss? Is there a plan?"

"We haven't gotten that far," Jazz replies. "We were waitin' on your sorry ass to get here."

"Sorry. Mags wasn't happy I was taking off after spending the morning at the clubhouse."

Jazz waves a hand. "Whatever. Since we're all finally here, I think the best place to start is trying to figure out how to get a look at the video from the bank. If we can get the manager to let us see the footage from their lot, we might be able to see what the car looked like, at least. If it's clear enough, we might even be able to see who was driving. But if they won't let us see the footage, we're at a disadvantage without Trigger on our side to hack the system. I'm not sure he'd go against Carl at this point. Any suggestions on how to get our hands on it?"

"We can either go in there in intimidation mode or"—Mac smiles around a mouthful of pizza—"I can go sweet talk her out of it. The manager is an old friend of mine." He waggles his eyebrows.

I reclaim my spot in the recliner, laughing and shaking my head as I grab my abandoned plate. "Rose would kick your ass, man. You sure you want to play with that?"

He shoots me a scowl. "You really think I'd actually let it go that far?"

"My bad." I turn to Jazz and Boomer. "What about the run? How do we handle that shit? Pop wants four guys to get the truck in Phoenix then head to Albuquerque for the hardware pickup. And he wants four guys to make the pickup and delivery for García's shit. He didn't seem to care who does what, but we need to decide how it's going down." I glance at my friend as he stuffs another bite in his mouth and back to the other two. "If Mac is handling the bank, that leaves us to decide who makes which run."

Boom lifts his hand off the arm of the couch. "I'll volunteer to make the delivery run."

"You sure you want to do that?" I ask, thinking of the added dangers of moving the drugs over the guns.

He nods his head. "Yeah, maybe if I volunteer this time, he'll lay off next time."

"Next time," Jazz scoffs. "I can't believe he's actually going through with this shit." He grits his teeth and locks his eyes on me. "I'm starting to think we should just cut our losses, E, and pull out. We could all be in Washington in a matter of days. Tell me why we need to stick this out."

I sigh and toss my plate of uneaten pizza on the coffee table. "I really don't know anymore."

"I understand you don't want to leave the rest of the boys high and dry, but is it really worth it now? They picked their side, and we picked ours. If the vote had gone the other way and you were sitting at the head of the table, it would be a completely different story. But you're not."

I swivel my head to look at Jazz. "I need Caius. I _need_ to find that fucker, and the resources the club has will help me do that. And if it wasn't Caius who shot at Bella, then it was García, and the best way to him is—"

"Through the club," Jazz finishes. "Yeah, I get it. But then what? Once you get what you're after, what's your end game?"

"Then I'm out. I'm putting a for sale sign in my yard and packing my shit. The moment this shit is settled, I'm out of here."

After we all decide who is making which run, we compare notes on who to ask about Caius and if anyone may have seen any of García's men around here recently. Then they all say their goodbyes. Once I clean up the mess the guys made, I make sure the house is locked and stretch out on the couch.

The TV drones in the background while I make calls to a few contacts who aren't affiliated with the club, guys who have helped me out in the past or owe me a solid, and let them know I'm looking for someone. When enough time has passed and I still haven't heard from Bella, I call her.

"_Hey,"_ she says. I can hear the exhaustion in her voice.

"Hey, baby. Did you guys get to Angela's yet?"

"_Yeah. We just got in a little while ago."_

"Do you need—"

"_Hey, I gotta go. Sam is all wound up from being on the plane and in the car all day, and he's ... he's just being a handful. I need to give him my undivided attention right now."_

"Yeah." I swallow past the sudden tightness in my throat. "Maybe you can call me later when you get settled?"

"_I'll try."_

I nod, even though she can't see it. "Okay. I ... I love you, Bella."

She sighs, and the pause that follows makes me wonder if she needs to think about her reply. _"I love you too, Edward,"_ she finally says.

I decide to grab a blanket and camp out on the couch for the rest of the evening, letting the TV melt my brain. I wait for hours for Bella to call me back, but when my eyes blink open to the bright light of morning, I realize she never called. Checking my phone, I see she didn't message me either. So, I decide to send her one.

_Good morning. Call me when you can or if you need anything. I love you.- E_

Her answering reply is short.

_xo - B_

My only goal right now is to wrap up this shit with the club, with Caius and García, so I can get back to my family, where I belong. Then we can put this whole ugly mess behind us and move ahead with the rest of our lives.

The problem is nothing is that simple.

I reach out to every last contact I have, putting out word I'm looking for Caius and that there's a metaphorical price on his head, but all I can do is wait. In the meantime, I'm forced to face my old man.

"Jazz, Tracker, Hawk, you're with me," Pop announces. "Tracker's guy should have the truck ready tonight, and we need to be in Albuquerque by tomorrow morning for the hardware pickup. The new supplier is a little skittish since this is a new arrangement, so we don't want to give him any reason to skip out on us. We'll meet at Hawk's place in an hour. Then we're taking a beater to Phoenix to throw off Black."

He turns to me and hands over a scrap of paper with an address on it. "The rest of you meet with García after sundown tonight at this address. I don't know what the next drop point is, but he'll have it for you tonight. I don't doubt you're looking at a couple days on the road." He looks around at everyone. "Anyone have any questions?" His narrowed eyes meet mine. "Any second thoughts?"

Murmured nos sound all around, and then we're dismissed.

With more time to kill, the guys riding with me hang back and watch the rest head out.

"I got a bad feeling about this, man," Boomer says from beside me.

"You and me both." I turn to look at him. "Has Mac called you?"

"Not yet."

"Come on," I say, leading him back toward the clubhouse. "We need to make sure we're locked and loaded for this drop tonight."

Armed and wrapped in my bulletproof vest, I take the lead. Each time we meet García, it's in a different location. The chosen spot this time is another deserted service station fifty miles east of home, in the middle of nowhere.

We leave early enough to ride circles around town, looping down desert roads and highways until any potential tails get bored with us. When I know the coast is clear, I peg the throttle and make up the miles, reaching the exchange point fifteen minutes before García and his men arrive.

"Your father is not with you tonight?" García asks as he watches us load the bundles into our saddlebags.

"No. He's meeting with our new contact. He should have the first shipment of guns to you in a few days."

He nods. "Very good. And the arrangement to increase the amount of product moved is still in place?"

I force a semi-polite smile. "You'll have to talk to my old man."

"Are you not able to speak for him?"

"Let's just say I'm not in a position to speak for the club right now."

He glances at the VP patch on my cut and raises a brow. "You still hold your position as your father's second. You should be able to speak for him."

"I'm taking a step back from things." I tilt my head, deciding to test the waters a little. "My family was injured last week. My old lady and our boy were hit in a drive-by."

His brow furrows and a look of confusion covers his face. "Someone shot your family? Are they— were they seriously hurt?"

I'm surprised at his seemingly genuine concern. "Yeah. They spent some time in the hospital."

He places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. "Please let me know if there is anything I can do. I have men in the area if you need any extra hands to bring those responsible to justice. I know your family has been through much in the last year. And your beautiful Bella." He sighs. "She has had an especially heavy load to carry. I wish her and your son a swift and full recovery."

"Thank you."

He looks to his men, waiting for a nod to let him know the exchange is done, and then turns back to me. "I will be expecting a call from your father about the hardware delivery in the coming days."

I nod. "He'll be in touch."

With a handshake, we part ways. We wait until García and his entourage have left before we hit the road, riding in the opposite direction. We cover as many miles as we can before we stop early the next morning at a roadside motel.

I take the opportunity to call Bella, but we don't get to talk long. Sam has an appointment with a new doctor, and she's trying to get him ready. With the promise that we'll talk later, I disconnect the call, and an uneasy feeling settles in my gut.

The motel is a dump and probably rents by the hour, but the room has two beds and a bathroom, which is all we need. After getting just enough shuteye to function, we're up and back on the road. The drop point is hours away at some hole-in-the-wall bar off the highway in SoCal.

Our contact doesn't say more than a few words to me when we exchange the bricks of dope for a thick envelope. The entire transaction takes only a few minutes, and then we get the fuck out of there.

All said and done, the run takes us more than twenty-four hours, and when I finally pull into my driveway, I'm completely spent. I shower and fall into bed, but I know I won't be able to sleep well if I don't talk to Bella. It's late, nearly midnight here, but she's an hour behind me. I'm hoping she's still awake. Instead of calling, I shoot her a text.

_Do you have time to FT me?_

I almost drop my phone when it rings. When her face fills the screen, all the turmoil I've felt since she left disappears.

"Hey, beautiful."

"Hey."

"Are you guys all settled in?"

It's dark wherever she is, but what looks like Christmas lights illuminate the space around her, so I can see her forced smile. "As much as one can settle in when it's just a matter of unpacking suitcases."

"How's Sam? What did the doctor say?"

Her forced smile slips. "The doc said he's healing fine. But he ... he's not doing great." She sniffs and ducks her head, and I want to crawl through the phone to hold her.

"What's wrong?"

"He's, um, he's having nightmares." She wipes at her nose and swipes at her cheeks. "He woke up screaming the last two nights. It's hard to get him to explain it to me, but I think he's reliving the shooting. And ..." She pauses, shaking her head.

"And what else?"

Her smile is so fucking sad, and it kills me. "He's having nightmares that you and Mase get shot, too." She closes her eyes. "It's just a lot to handle on my own, ya know?"

"Bella, I— fuck." I grab at my hair. "Tell me what to do. How do I fix it?"

Her laugh is sharp, jagged around the edges, and it cuts straight through me. "I don't think you can."

Way too many minutes of silence follow, and finally, I can't take it anymore. "Talk to me, Bella," I prod softly.

It takes her a few more moments to collect her thoughts, and she won't look at the screen when she speaks. Instead, she focuses on something off in the distance. "I know why you sent us away. I know we're here to keep us safe, but I keep thinking about the possibility I'll have to tell him you actually _were_ hurt. That something terrible happened and he's lost you, too." She shakes her head as if she's shaking off the thought. "Seeing him screaming about you and his dad being dead ... it's too much."

"I'm doing the best I can, B," I rasp.

That same sad expression colors her face, and it guts me. "I know."

"As soon as I know we'll all be safe, I'll be on my way there. I just need more time."

"How much time? It could be months before you know who did this." A tear slips down her cheek. "I'm not sure I can do this for that long," she whispers.

"I promise—"

"Don't. Please. I know you're doing what you can to finish this and get to us, but I can't listen to you make a promise you might not be able to keep."

The silence between us feels hopeless right now. And the physical distance between us only adds to it. All I want to do is hold her, reassure her, but I can't. And since she doesn't want my promises, I don't know what to say to her.

"Listen," she finally says, breaking the quiet, "I should probably go. Sam has been waking up around the same time every night, and I want to be in there for him if he does."

I nod and clear my throat. "Okay. I'll, uh ... I'll try to call you tomorrow?"

"Okay."

"I love you, Bella. I'm doing my best to make sure we can put this all behind us once and for all."

She smiles as another tear falls. "I know."

* * *

I'm the first one to walk into the shop the next morning, and Mac, who's usually here when I arrive, is nowhere to be seen.

"Jazz!" I shout as he walks toward the open bay door. "You hear from Mac this morning?"

He shakes his head. "No, but I passed by the bank on my way here, and his bike was parked in the lot."

"This early?"

He shrugs as he lights a smoke. He takes a drag and exhales, reflexively flicking at the butt between his fingers. "I think it took him a couple days to wear the manager down. She probably asked him to come in before all the customers showed."

We get to work, sending the first car up on the lift, but it's an hour or more before Mac shows. And when he does, he heads straight for me.

"I finally got a look at the fucking video."

"And?"

He hands over the somewhat grainy pictures. "It wasn't García. Whoever was driving that car was wearing a cut."

I study the black and white images. The first shot is time stamped around the same time Bella and the boys got to the store. The late model Cutlass is parked at the far end of the bank's lot, and a guy wearing a cut is leaning against its front end. The next few stills show him getting into his car and then heading in the direction of the grocery store. One is of the car driving through the store lot, and the last is of it driving away.

"Looks like we can rule out García," I murmur as I squint, trying to figure out who the fuck is in the pictures.

"Unless they're suddenly working together."

I shake my head. "They wouldn't. They fought over territory for years. There's too much bad blood between them, which means—"

"We know who's responsible for the shooting."

I look up and meet Mac's hard look. "All we have to do now is find him."

* * *

**A/N: What could possibly go wrong? ;) And I hope this chapter explains Edward's motivations for staying and seeing it all through. I'd love to hear your thoughts. **

**There's a Holiday edition of our A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Images contest happening right now! It's an image contest with a 50 word limit (we want those pretty pictures!), so you'll find the details on Facebook and Instagram. **

**I've officially written the epilogue to this one, so it's all done and in different stages of pre-reading and editing. It should be marked complete by the last week of December. Hard to believe it's almost over. **sniff sniff****

**The best way to stay up to date with what I'm up to, and what my posting schedule is, check out my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I'd love if you all could join us. I'm also on Twitter at CSunshine1220 with teaser pics. **

"**See" you next week! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

**Songs: **

**Everybody Wants To Rule The World, Lorde  
****Tell Me Why, Three Days Grace  
****State of My Head, Shinedown  
****Burden In My Hand, Soundgarden  
****Beg, Seether**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1.  
******Fiddling was had. All mistakes are mine. **

* * *

**Edward**

My calls to Bella sometimes go unanswered, and I feel this chasm slowly forming between us. Not only are we separated by physical distance, but I also feel like we're growing apart in the short time we've been separated.

I know she's trying to heal. I know she's stressed about finding work and taking care of Sam, but she won't fucking talk to me. Our phone calls are more and more like status updates than meaningful conversations, and the longer we're apart, the worse I think it's going to get.

My only hope is to get shit wrapped up here so I can get to her.

But three weeks pass, and I don't hear anything from any of my contacts. Caius is a ghost, and the more time that goes by with no sign of him, the more frustrated I get. It's not helping that Pop is putting all his focus on the new warehouse and building our supply. He's also planning to take on a new buyer instead of concentrating on finding the asshole who tried to take out my family, not to mention finding out who killed Rooster.

"We need to expand. We have the space. We have the hardware. Why not open it up to more buyers?" Pop asks us as we sit around the table, discussing his new scheme.

"Who's vouching for these guys?" Hawk asks. "Do we know enough about them to know we aren't gonna get fucked over?"

Pop stubs his smoke out in the ashtray. "It's a small operation based out of Barstow. He used to meet up with Riley, and now that he's lost his supplier, he's looking for a new one. Albuquerque is too far for him to meet with our new guy, so we benefit from being a middleman."

"You trust this new buyer?" I ask, my arms folded over my chest. "All you have is his word. And with all the shit that's been thrown our way lately, how can you guarantee he's not working with someone?"

Pop shrugs. "No reward is ever without risk." He narrows his eyes at me. "You should know something about taking a risk without knowing if it'll pan out."

I shake my head and breathe out heavily through my nose, trying not to go off on the son of a bitch.

Pop looks around the table. "So, all in favor of taking on the new buyer?"

The vote goes around the table, and unsurprisingly, it passes.

"Tracker, set it up. We should plan it for this week, or maybe over next weekend if he can wait that long." Pop leans back in his chair. "Any other business we need to attend to before we call it a day?"

When no one has anything new to add, Pop asks for volunteers to make the run to Barstow. Predictably, those who sided with him volunteer, and as soon as he has his crew, the gavel falls. I hop out of my chair and head for the main room to get my phone back from Crow.

"It rang," he says as he hands it over, eyeing the guys lingering in the chapel.

Looking at the call history, I see it's not a phone number I recognize, but it's a 520 area code. "It's local," I murmur, pressing the number and walking outside.

It rings a few times before someone finally answers, and when he does, it's a voice I'm familiar with. _"I was hoping you'd return my call." _

"García. What can I do for you? If this is about a shipment, you need to speak to my father. I can—"

"_No, Edward. It is you I wanted to speak to. The last time we spoke, I offered my services if you needed them, but I've yet to hear from you."_

"That's because I haven't had any leads. But I appreciate your—"

"_That is why I'm calling."_

My heart starts to beat a little faster.

"_I was wondering if you happened to be looking for Caius Volturi."_

* * *

"And he said Caius was actually _in _Tucson?" Mac asks.

"Yeah," I reply, my hands fumbling to light a cigarette as I mumble around it. "He was at some titty bar south of town last week."

"Wonder if it was the same place we snagged Aro from?" he muses aloud.

The nicotine does little to soothe my shaking insides as I inhale. I slowly exhale, trying to calm my ass down. "Could be. Garcia didn't say which one, but he's going to call me if Caius is spotted again. Said he gave his people instructions to hang on to him for me if they see him until I can get up there."

"So, whoever goes needs to be ready to jump at a moment's notice."

I nod, taking another drag and blowing it out. "Basically. I'm going to ask Pop to send a handful of our crew with me, but I think we all know how that'll go."

"You'll be lucky if he doesn't laugh in your face, man," Boomer says.

"Yeah," I say with a sigh, turning to Mac. "Can I count on you to head up there with me when the time comes?

"You know you don't even need to ask me."

I nod and turn to Jazz and Boomer. "What about you two?"

"I'm in," Jazz says. "Whatever you need, you know I have your back, E. I'm as ready to get this shit over with as you are."

"You know I'm in," Boomer says. "But it wouldn't be a bad idea to ask Carl for a few bodies."

I nod and look in the direction of the shop office. "I'll talk to him before they leave for Barstow. But I'm not holding my breath."

"Fuck Carl," Mac spits. "No matter what he says, we've got your back."

I drop my spent smoke to the ground and smash it with my boot. "Then it's settled. As soon as García calls with a location, we hit the road."

* * *

It takes less then twenty-four hours for Tracker to set up the meeting with the new contact in Barstow. The only thing left to do is work out the logistics. The plan is for a small group—Pop, Tracker, and Hawk—to drive the truck out there and make the exchange.

When I finally have a chance to really _talk _to Bella, I let her know I'm finally getting somewhere, but it doesn't go the way I think it will.

"_So, he's actually been seen?"_

"Yeah. Fucking finally. And I've already got some help lined up to go with me when the call comes in."

"_The whole club isn't going with you?"_

"No, probably just a few of us. I'm gonna ask Pop to spare me a few more, but I'm not sure he'll go for it."

"_But what if—"_

"Hey, it's probably better than the whole club showing up anyway. We won't bring as much attention to ourselves that way."

"_But is that a good idea? I mean, what if he isn't alone?" _Her voice rises with every question. _"What if he's got another chapter started and you're walking into a trap ... or you're outnumbered? Edward, what if—"_

"It's okay. We got this, baby."

"_Edward, I ..." _I don't have to see her to know she's crying, and I feel like shit.

"Hey," I say softly, "this just means I'm one step closer to being with you and the boys. As soon as he's taken care of, I'm out of here, okay?"

"_Okay,"_ she whispers. _"Just ... be safe."_

"I always am."

* * *

"Hey," Mac says, sidling up beside me and hopping onto the top of the picnic table. "How are you doing without your old lady around to keep you in line?"

"Surviving." I crack a grin. "There's been a lot of frozen pizza nights at my place lately."

Mac bobs his head in a nod. "And how is Bella doing up there with Sam? Rosie said B was acting a little distant."

I rub a hand over my face. "I don't fucking know, man. One day I think we're okay and the next I feel like we're one serious conversation from calling it quits."

"Whoa. What the fuck happened?"

"She's tired, Mac. She's so fucking tired of all the bullshit and wants me to dump all this and get my ass up there."

He levels me with a harsh stare, raised brow and all. "Then maybe you should."

"You think I don't want to? Fuck, Mac, I wanted to go with them more than anything, but—"

"Obviously, not more than anything if you're still here."

I groan, not in the mood to have this discussion right now.

"Hey, I'm not saying you should drop everything and bail on us, but I can see where B is coming from."

"I can too, but goddamnit, Mac, I need to make sure this shit isn't going to follow me to Washington. At this point, I'm not even sure Caius is going to show."

He grips my shoulder and squeezes. "He will. And when he does, all this shit will be over. Then we'll get you back to your family."

* * *

Pop's reaction isn't surprising when I ask him to send some of his crew with me when the time comes.

"You want me"—he points to his chest—"to send my guys with you to hunt down Caius?" He does, in fact, laugh in my face. "Oh, that's rich." He turns to walk away, seemingly dismissing me.

"Hey, I'm not done talking to you."

"Oh, but _I'm_ done talking to _you_."

I reach for him, grabbing his arm and pulling him to a stop. "You owe it to me, Pop."

He turns on his heel and cocks his head. "I _owe _you? Are you out of your fucking mind? You try to take away _my_ club, try to knock the gavel out of my hands, and you think _I _owe _you_? I don't owe you shit." He points a finger in my face. "You need to get your priorities in check, kid."

I smack his hand away. "Believe me, I have my priorities where they need to be. I'm looking out for my family, which is what I thought this club was all about. But lately it's about how much you can pad your bank account."

"I'm just trying to look out for _all_ of us."

"Yeah? All of us? Tell that to Bella and Sam, who got fucking _shot_ because we couldn't protect them. Tell that to Seth. He had to dodge bullets in the backseat because his fucking grandfather refused to hunt down the animal who seems to have a hard-on for my family. _You're_ the one who has his priorities all fucked up."

He takes a step toward me, closing the distance between us and getting in my face. "I told you we'd go after him when we actually _found_ him. It was going to do absolutely no good to go looking for a ghost. That fucker hasn't surfaced in months. I wasn't going to keep a payday from the rest of these guys when there was money to be made."

"Yeah, well, he's finally shown himself and I'm just waiting until he pops up again. I'm not going to miss my chance to go after him because I'm off playing errand boy."

"And you need my guys to do it. Unbelievable," he mumbles as he shakes his head. Pop lowers his voice. "You think you can just pick and choose when being in this club suits you? That you can try to take away my president patch and then turn around and pretend everything is status quo? No, I don't think so. And I don't give a fuck if you're my son. You're still a member of this club. Tank might have been the one to call for that vote, but I know you were behind it. You're either in this club—with _me _at the head of the table—or you're out. You can't pick and choose when it's convenient. So, my answer is no, you can't have my crew."

His condescending grin makes my blood boil.

"Maybe you're the one who needs to think about his priorities, _Carl_. My brother deserves vengeance, too. He died like a dog on the side of the road, and you've acted like it was an inconvenience to go after the fucker who put him there. Don't try to tell me you wanted Caius dead. You've had more than a year to make it happen, and for most of it, finding him has been at the bottom of your list. So, don't come to me with your speech about having _my _priorities right." I stab a finger at his chest. "If you really gave a shit about your son, you'd be right beside me going after the man who killed him." I look him up and down in disgust. "But we both know you were never really a father to him."

When he doesn't respond, I turn and walk away before I do something we'll both regret.

Pop and I successfully avoid each other in the following days. Even while I'm working, I don't say a word to the asshole. But whenever I catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye, he's eyeing me, looking like he wants to say something.

Wednesday evening, Pop calls for a last-minute church meeting. And when we're all sitting around the table, sorting the final details of the run to Barstow on Friday, the tension between us is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

With every passing day, my anxiety ratchets up. The longer I don't hear from García about Volturi, the more antsy I get. I keep waking up in a cold sweat at night, my heart pounding and my mouth dry, lingering visions of Bella and the boys being shot flashing before my eyes ... only this time, they don't survive.

But what wakes me up Friday night isn't a nightmare, it's the ringing of my phone. And it's the call I've been waiting for.

Caius Volturi has finally shown himself, and this time he's not getting away.

* * *

"García's crew is tailing him for us?" Mac asks as he checks his piece and slides it into his waistband.

"Yeah." I yank on the Velcro straps of my vest, making sure it's secure before I pull my shirt over my head. "He said one of his guys saw Caius in some tattoo shop getting inked. But that was more than an hour ago."

I strap my knife to my belt and grab my own gun, tucking it into my waistband at my back. I turn to the guys. "García said Caius wasn't alone, so if he's got a new club, this might not pan out the way I want it to. This is your last chance to back out."

Mac grips my shoulder and squeezes. "We've got your back."

Boomer and Jazz echo the sentiments, and the nervous energy I've felt since the phone rang an hour ago calms a little.

I nod and grab a black hoodie, pulling it over my head. "Okay. Then let's do this."

The desk lamp illuminating the office is dim, but it's enough to see the board of keys for all the cars in the lot. I snag one that's toward the bottom, a car that hasn't been claimed due to lack of payment, and click off the lamp.

Pocketing the keys, I lock up the office and turn back to the lot. "Shit," I murmur, slowly walking down the few steps to the asphalt. Pop, Tracker, and Hawk are loading supplies into the van. "How did I forget the run was tonight?"

"You're not the only one who forgot." Jazz looks over his shoulder at me. "It's not like you didn't drag us outta bed," he says sarcastically. "That's my excuse anyway."

"Come on." I jerk my head in the direction of the cars in the holding lot. Our ride for the night is an Impala that's seen better days, but it'll serve its purpose.

"You not even gonna say anything?" Mac asks when he reaches the passenger door.

I meet his eyes over the roof of the car as I slide the key in the lock. "Nope. The asshole said all he needed to say last week. He couldn't give a fuck less about making Caius pay for what he did to Mase _or _Bella and the boys." I glance in the direction of Pop and the others loading into the van. "He still hasn't said a fucking word to me since I asked him for his crew."

Mac turns and stares at my old man as he tosses a bag in the back of the van. "He needs to get over himself." He turns to me. "But it's got to be a major blow to his ego to know half his club wants him gone. That shit has to sting."

I raise a brow. "You're actually defending that ass?"

He holds up his hands. "No, I'm not. I'm just saying I get why he's being the way he is."

I purse my lips and turn back. Even at this distance, I catch Pop's gaze in the low light. It feels like time stops. In many ways tonight is a turning point. He's made his choice and so have I; he's chosen money over family, and I've chosen my family above everything else. There won't be any coming back from this, and once it's all over, I'm out.

And judging by the expression on his face, he knows it.

A strange anxiety crawls across the surface of my skin as I watch him disappear into the van, and a sick feeling settles in my gut. Between the new contacts in Albuquerque and Barstow and still having Jacob Black lurking in the shadows, there are too many things at play ... too much that can go wrong. It's an uneasiness I've felt more in the last few months than I ever have, but this time feels different.

We all watch as the van pulls out of the lot, and my eyes are locked on it until the taillights disappear.

"Let's get this show on the road," Mac says, slapping the roof of the Impala.

The four of us settle into the car and roll out. When I make a turn to the east instead of toward the highway, Boomer is the one to question me.

"Uh, E? Where the fuck are you goin'? I thought we needed to head toward Tucson."

"I have one stop to make." Ten minutes later I pull up to the curb and a familiar form emerges from the house.

"Is that—"

I shift into park and hit the trunk release. "I thought we could use one more since Carl wouldn't spare any of his guys."

With a clang and a thump, our friend tosses his contribution to the evening in the trunk before walking to the front of the car.

Mac climbs out of the passenger seat, reaching out for a fist bump. "Tank, my man. Long time, no see." He waves a hand toward the open car door. "Age before beauty, so you can ride shotgun."

"Fuck that." He nudges Mac out of the way before sliding into the passenger seat.

Mac stands there looking dumbfounded. "But I thought you said—"

"I said fuck age before beauty." He turns to me. "But I'd be a fucking idiot to give up shotgun." He settles back into his seat and mumbles to himself. "Like I'd rather ride in the back with those yahoos."

I crack a grin as I shift into drive, pulling away from the curb. "It's good to have you back, Tank."

* * *

When we're a few miles from Caius' last known whereabouts, I check in with my contact. García's man gives us an address, and it's the same club he was spotted at days ago.

"These boys are creatures of habit, aren't they?" Tank muses from the passenger seat. He turns to me. "I'm still trying to figure out why he thinks he could show his face all over town and not expect it to get back to García."

"He probably doesn't give a shit. Maybe he doesn't realize García has taken over up here. And he wouldn't know we've expanded our operation with him." I glance at Tank and back to the road. "Or maybe he's taunting us, and this is just a giant fuck you to all of us."

When we pull up, the music can be heard from outside, the bass pumping so hard it's gotta be rattling the walls of the strip club. The lot is packed, which I expected for a Friday night. But what I don't expect is the line of five bikes parked under a lamppost.

"Shit," I mutter as I shift into park.

"Either those are all civilians or Caius went and made himself a new club," Tank says from beside me.

"If they're with him, we need to think about how to do this." I turn to look at all of them. "We're at a disadvantage in a fucking cage." I turn back to face the building, crossing my arms. "I'm all ears if one of you has an idea."

For the next hour we discuss different scenarios, all while we keep our eyes on the door. Everything from following Caius home to attempting to run them all off the road is suggested, but in the end, the only thing we agree on is waiting him out. Going inside could open us up to too many variables.

It's creeping up on two in the morning, so the bar will be serving last call soon. It's only a matter of time before Caius stumbles out to his bike.

Boomer is leaning forward in his seat, showing Tank the most recent pictures of Oliver when Mac rips one. It's nothing new. When a bunch of guys get together, there's more than a few belches and other escaped gasses. But none of us are prepared for the cloud that settles in the cabin of the car.

"My god, what the fuck did you eat?" Tank whines, scrambling to roll down his window.

"Sorry," Mac mumbles.

"Jesus, Mac. Warn a guy next time." I pull the front of my shirt over my nose and mouth. Meanwhile, Jazz and Boomer are gagging and holding their shirts over their faces while I press on all the buttons, rolling all the windows down.

We're so busy trying to escape Mac's attempt at gassing us, we nearly miss Caius walking out of the club.

"Shit! There he is." But he's not alone. He's followed out by a few friends.

The guys he's with are all wearing cuts, and when a couple of them turn around I can see the Kingsmen colors and rockers.

"Well, that answers that question," Tank says. He turns to face me. "There's no way we can take on all of them in a cage, E. We need to get him alone. Then we can pass along the info to the chapter in New Mexico and let them know they have a pop-up club on their hands out here. Let them sort it out."

We sit in the dark while Caius and his new friends shoot the shit for a few minutes.

"Do you really think he's not worried about García seeing him?" Boomer asks.

"He's getting cocky," Jazz says, gaining my attention in the mirror. His eyes are trained on the guys milling around under the lot light. "If he has any clue this is García's territory he doesn't give a fuck. He put a club back together"—he meets my eyes in the mirror—"and I don't doubt for a second as soon as he has a plan and enough manpower and firepower he's coming for ours. Their shot at B and the boys was more than likely a test run and a warning shot all rolled into one."

Before I can respond, one of the bikes on the other side of the lot fires up. We watch as one by one, the unsanctioned club members ride off, finally leaving Caius alone. He pulls out his cellphone and leans against his bike. He goes through two cigarettes while he talks, and just when I think he's never going to get off the goddamn phone—

"Fucking finally," I say as he pockets it.

I let him get somewhat of a head start, letting him get ahead of us a mile or so on the highway leading out of town. The distance between the buildings grows the farther we drive, and there are no streetlights on this stretch of road. If I were to cut my headlights, the only lights out this far would be the moon and stars.

Caius' ride covers a wide swath of the road. His movements are jerky, slower than what is considered normal. He's more than likely tipsy, maybe even drunk. He's riding so slow that I'm more than able to keep up. And as we get farther from town, I start to close the distance between us.

"You got a plan, E?" Tank asks from beside me.

"Yeah." I glance his way before turning back to the road. "I'm gonna run the motherfucker off the road."

The closer I get, the faster my heart beats. For months I've been waiting for the chance to get my hands on him, and he's finally in my sights. All the shit this prick has put my family through comes back in a rush. His attacks on Bella, he or one of his crew shooting at my fucking family, Caius running my brother into a ditch and blowing a hole through him ... all of it fuels my rage.

"Easy, E," Jazz says as I gun the accelerator.

"I know," I say through gritted teeth. My grip tightens on the wheel and I swallow hard before I ride up on his left.

Even in his inebriated state, Caius realizes something's wrong. I'm not surprised when he reaches inside his cut with his left hand and whips it around, firing without aiming. The shot is bad, landing somewhere in the void, but it doesn't stop him from trying again.

"You need to take him out, son, before he manages to actually get a good shot," Tank warns.

Without any more thought, I punch the accelerator again and jerk the wheel to the right, clipping Caius' rear wheel.

The result is instantaneous.

His bike jerks, swerving and fishtailing, and he's unable to control it. And just like I hoped, the wheels skid out from under him. His bike goes one way and he goes the other, his body sliding against the pavement.

My heart thumps against my chest as my breaths come faster.

"Fucker wasn't wearing a brain bucket," Boomer points out. "Think he's—"

I come to a stop, my hands still gripping the wheel. My headlights light up the darkened road and the still lump of a man on the asphalt. "If he is, I'm bringing him back just to kill him again."

I shift into park and hop out, pulling my gun from my waistband. When I reach him, he's groaning as he tries to roll to his back. He's got to be in some serious pain.

"You should've stayed a ghost," I say, pointing my piece at him.

"Fuck you," he says, struggling to move.

I glance over my shoulder to ask one of them for some help moving this worthless piece of shit. But turning my back on him, even for a split second, is the wrong move.

A loud pop is followed by a sharp pain when he fires a round at my chest, knocking the wind out of me. I gasp as the force of it pushes me back a few inches. A shot rings out from behind me, hitting Caius in the shoulder.

He's knocked back to the pavement, screaming and writhing the best he can in the shape he's in.

"Where did he get you?" Jazz asks over Caius' cries. He squints, trying to get a good look at me in the distorted light of the headlights.

I pull in a lungful of air, gasping. "I'm fine." I pull up my shirt, exposing the vest underneath, running my finger over the slight indentation where the bullet hit. "I wasn't thinking." I look over at Caius. "You stupid motherfucker. Did you really think I wouldn't have backup? You're lucky he didn't blow your fucking head off."

I scan the scene, deciding what's next. Mac and Tank are lifting Caius' ride from the pavement, examining it in the scant light. "Think it's road worthy?" I shout.

Mac looks the bike over and shouts back, "Should be."

"Get it up and ready to go." After getting a nod in reply, I turn back to the man on the ground. I close the distance between us and stand over him. With my gun held tightly in my hand, I bring the butt of my piece down on the side of Caius' head in one quick and forceful blow, knocking him out cold.

"Somebody give me a hand with this," I say as I crouch down beside Caius' prone body. "And get the tarp. I don't want him bleeding all over the trunk."

Boomer helps me bind his hands and feet with duct tape before we toss him in the trunk amongst the tools Tank brought along. I close the trunk as Mac fires up Caius' bike.

He shouts in our direction. "I'll follow you."

I nod and head for the driver side door, climbing in behind the wheel. "Buckle up, boys. We're going for a little ride."

I-8 is all but deserted during daylight hours, and at almost three in the morning, it _is _deserted.

Driving west, we don't pass anyone for miles and miles. We pass what looks like a ghost town before we take an exit at Gila Bend and head south.

"Think we can get this done before the sun comes up?" Jazz asks.

I look in the rearview and see his head tilted back and his eyes closed. I smirk. "If you can stay awake."

* * *

I shift the car into park and cut the engine. The desert around us is dark and desolate. It's not the first time we've driven out to the middle of nowhere to get rid of somebody, but I can sure as shit say it's the last time _I'll_ be doing it.

"You boys ready to do this?" I ask, opening my door.

With mumbled, tired agreement, we all file out of the car, walking around to the trunk. Caius is still down for the count. I reach past him and snatch up the shovels, handing one to every man here.

"Time to do some desert landscaping, boys."

The sound of everyone's shovel scooping up the sand and tossing it to the side is repetitive, rhythmic. And with all five of us digging, it isn't long before the hole in the ground is big enough to toss Caius into it.

We're a couple miles off the road, surrounded by miles and miles of desert. More than a hundred miles west of home and several miles south of the interstate, we haven't seen another soul for hours.

"That should do it," I say, wiping at the sweat beading on my forehead with my forearm. "Who wants to help me haul him over here?"

"I got it," Mac says, tossing his shovel aside and walking back to the car. I follow, but he manages to grab Caius without any help and toss the fucker over his shoulder. He grunts. "Shit, he's a lot heavier than he looks."

"You need me to—"

"Nah, I'm good." Mac hoists Caius higher on his shoulder and turns around, walking the path back to the hole we've dug, unceremoniously dropping him into it.

Tank makes sure Caius stays upright while the rest of us use the shovels to backfill around him, burying him up to his neck.

"I think that should do it," I say, staring down at the still unconscious man.

Jazz takes the shovel from my hand. "I'll grab the water." He gathers the rest of the tools and returns to the car, tossing the shovels inside and grabbing the gallon of water we've brought just for this purpose.

"You wanna do the honors?" I ask him.

"Gladly," he says with a smirk, twisting the lid off and tipping the jug over Caius' head.

The man spits and sputters as he comes to, and it takes him a few minutes to get his bearings. And like the others we've served a similar fate, he flips the fuck out, screaming and struggling. But it's futile; there's no fucking way he's getting out of this. Beneath the sand and dirt, he's still bound at his wrists and ankles. And in this remote location, no one will hear his screams after we leave. The coyotes and snakes should take care of what the brutal desert sun doesn't.

His eyes must finally adjust, because they land on me. "You," he growls. "You son of a bitch. I should have taken you out instead of going after that bitch and her brats."

I pull out my gun and stand over him. "Wanna try that again, asshole?"

He shakes his head back and forth, and I know he's fighting to get free. "Just do it," he says defiantly. "We both know I'm a dead man anyway."

"Not until I get some answers, Volturi.

"Answers? You want fucking answers? Here's an answer for you. Everything went to shit because of your fucking club, your fuck-up of a brother. He fucks with my daughter and then turns around and steals from me. And the rest of you come after my club and you think I'm not going to retaliate?"

"My brother didn't deserve to die like an animal on the side of the road."

Caius spits into the dusty earth beneath his chin. "He _was _a fucking animal. He deserved what he got."

"And his old lady? You thought going after a woman was the best way to get his attention?" I crouch down and press the barrel of my gun to his temple. "She was fucking pregnant when you went after her," I say through gritted teeth. "Women are supposed to be off limits and you know it."

"Then your brother should have stayed away from my daughter."

"Why the hell did you go after a woman not once but three fucking times? Why did you shoot at my kids?"

His tired chuckle only infuriates me.

I stand and kick at the sand, making sure I aim it toward his face. "Talk!"

Caius spits and sputters. "Fuck you, Cullen! You steal from me, destroy my club, kill my fucking brother, and you want me to tell you anything." The sinister expression on his face is almost comical, considering he's buried up to his neck in the middle of nowhere. "I may be a dead man, but this ain't over."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"There was more than just me looking to get even with you and your old lady."

I press the gun to his forehead again. "Tell me."

"You need to look a little closer at the people you trust. If you think I risked coming back to your little backwards town just to pop off a few shots at an old lady and her kids and not blow up _your_ fucking clubhouse, you're dumber than you look." His ominous grin returns. "But the payday was nice."

My mind is reeling. If what he says is true, it was a paid job, an attempted hit, when Bella and the boys were shot at.

I slide my gun back into my pants and grab the knife hanging from my belt loop. I crouch down and grab at his hair, yanking his head back and holding the blade to his neck. "Tell me who paid you, Caius, or I swear to God I'll slit your fucking throat."

He meets my eyes and clenches his jaw. "Fuck you. We both know you're gonna kill me anyway."

My grip on him tightens as he taunts me, and I press my blade harder against his skin. I could so easily put an end to him, but then it would be over. He wouldn't suffer like he's made all of us suffer for so long. "You know what? No, I don't think I'll kill you. A quick death is too good for you. You put my girl through hell, and I want you to think about it while you wait for death to come." I bring the blade from his neck to his forehead. "But I think we'll give you a little makeover first."

I pierce the skin at his temple with the tip of my knife, dragging it acrosshis forehead. He cries out like the coward he is as the blood rushes to the surface of his skin. Mixing with the sweat and sand on his face, it drips into his eyes.

"You killed my brother," I growl into his ear."You attacked my old lady. Three. Fucking. Times." I pull the blade away just enough to carve triangles into his skin above the line I've made. "You shot at my kids." I grab at the hair on his head and yank it back, forcing him to look at me. "And now you're gonna die in the desert like the animal _you_ are." I shove his head back and release him, standing and brushing the dust from my jeans.

"Come on," I say over my shoulder. "Let's go home."

His cries for me to put a bullet in his head go unanswered as we climb into the car and drive toward the road. I don't even bother looking in the rearview. Caius Volturi is as good as dead, a snack for the desert animals. When we get close to the road, we pass Caius' bike where we've left it in a ditch. It'll eventually be found, along with his body. But by the time he's found, I doubt there will be much left of him. If we're lucky the winds will kick up the sand and bury what's left.

The guys are quiet as we head toward home, the long night catching up with all of them. But I'm wide awake, and my mind is reeling. I want to go home and pack my shit and get to Bella and the boys, but I can't. There's one more loose end to tie up.

It's time to figure out which twisted motherfucker in my circle thinks they can put out a hit on my family and get away with it.

* * *

**A/N: So sorry for the delay today. It was a very Monday-ish Tuesday for the Sunshine house. So, how are we feeling about Caius' end? Did he deserve it? What about his cryptic warning? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter. **

**There's a Holiday edition of our A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Images contest happening right now! It's an image contest with a 50 word limit (we want those pretty pictures!), so you'll find the details on Facebook and Instagram. **

**The best way to stay up to date with what I'm up to, and what my posting schedule is, check out my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I'd love if you all could join us. I'm also on Twitter at CSunshine1220 with teaser pics. **

"**See" you next week! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

**Songs: **

**Believe, Staind  
****Kingdom Come, The Civil Wars  
****One More Day, 10 Years**

***Link to YouTube playlist in chapter 1. **

* * *

**Edward**

I'm lost in thought as we drive back, my head still spinning over what Caius said. I've spent the entire drive weighing my options, wondering who it could be, who wants Bella dead. None of it makes any fucking sense, and exhaustion quickly sets in. If I get some fucking sleep, I might be able to make heads or tails of it, but the thought of going home to an empty house isn't very appealing.

I pull into Tank's driveway and shift into park.

"You gonna be okay?" Tank asks as he reaches for the door handle.

I nod but remain silent.

"Whatever happens, I've got your back, kid. All you have to do is call me." He holds out his fist for a bump and I oblige.

"Thanks, man."

He gets out and walks around to the trunk, collecting the shovels and then disappearing into his garage.

When we pull up to the clubhouse, the rest of us part ways. Boomer and Jazz go home to their wives while Mac and I head inside. The sun has just come up, and I briefly consider trying to push through the exhaustion to think shit through. But the soreness in my ribs and the layer of grime on my body sends me to the shower. Once I wash off the remnants of the desert, I collapse into my bed and pass out.

Noise outside my room wakes me, and judging by the light streaming through the window, it's hours later. I flop onto my back and scrub a hand over my face before reaching for my cell phone. When I realize it's late afternoon and I have no missed calls, a weight settles in the pit of my stomach. Tossing my phone on the nightstand, I sit on the edge of the bed and grab a cigarette.

I know I need to call Bella. I need to tell her Caius is dead, but I'm not sure how to tell her I'm not leaving town just yet. With the cigarette dangling from my lips, I head to the bathroom and take a piss before finding the clean clothes I brought with me. Sneaking into the kitchen, I grab a cup of coffee and then disappear back into my room.

I kill some time cleaning out my room, making sure drawers are empty and nothing is hiding under my bed. Making a last check of the closet, I come across a box I'd forgotten.

I toss the shoebox on the floor and sit with my back against the bed. The next hour is spent chain smoking through nearly half a pack while I flip through the pictures I've collected over the years. With every snapshot comes a flood of memories.

_Bella and I, back when we were a couple of dumb kids who thought the world was theirs for the taking. _

_Masen and one of the prospects who didn't pan out standing poolside at Mom and Pop's. _

_Masen and I wrestling in the pool. _

_Masen flipping the bird at whomever is taking his picture. _

_My brother and I on our bicycles when we were eight or nine. _

Frozen moments in time fill the box, and it's the last thing in this room that holds any sentimental significance.

Some of them make me smile. A few of them make me feel regret. All of them make me long for the chance to go back in time and do shit differently. Holding a picture of Bella, a black beanie on her head and a bright smile on her face, I'm hit by how much I miss her. What I should be doing is calling to tell her I'm not coming to Washington yet.

But I'm avoiding her, plain and simple. Telling her this shit isn't done yet is the very last thing I want to do.

A knock on the door is followed by Mac filling the doorway. "You look like you need to tell somebody his dog died."

I sigh and look up at him. "I think I'd rather do that than call her."

He steps inside the room and closes the door. "What's all this?" he asks, pointing to the box beside me.

"Shit I found in the closet."

He plops down beside me and picks up the box, glancing through some of the snapshots. "Damn. Some of these go way back."

"Yeah. Feels like some of those are from a lifetime ago."

"In a way, they are." He pauses and turns to me. "So, have you decided what you're doing about what Caius said?"

I take a drag, shaking my head and tilting it back, blowing the smoke toward the ceiling. "No. Part of me hopes he was just trying to fuck with my head." I turn to look at Mac. "What better way to destroy a club than to rip it apart from the inside, you know?"

He nods. "Sound like something he'd do. Stick it to us one more time." He tilts his head. "But what if he was being serious? What if someone close to you is the one who ordered the hit on B and the boys?"

"Then they need to pay, Mac." I look down at my hands. "I can't let this shit go."

He reaches past me and grabs a smoke from my pack. "I thought you quit."

I smirk. "I did."

"So, who do you think would take out a hit on Bella? You don't think Carl would—"

"What would he have to gain from it?" I shake my head. "Things have been tense between us for a while, but that hit was set up before the vote was cast. He may want to string me up by my balls and drag me through the desert, but I can't see him going after a woman."

"You may not want to hear this, but do you think Esme would want her out of the way?"

I bring my cigarette between my lips and inhale slowly. I can't lie and say the thought hasn't crossed my mind. The day of Rooster's funeral comes to mind, and I think back to what Bella told me about their conversation.

Esme told Bella she needed her to smooth things over, help get Pop and me to forgive her. I wouldn't put it past my mother to threaten Bella if she didn't get her way. And I can see Bella not telling me, thinking Esme was just blowing smoke out of her ass.

"Maybe," I finally reply. "When I talk to Bella, I'll mention it. See if she remembers anything from when Mom cornered her. And I'll put out word that I'm looking for her. Maybe she'll turn up."

"If it was her, do you think she's still a threat?"

I shrug. "Yeah, I do. If she was willing to pay an enemy to take a shot at my family, then she's capable of anything."

"Do you think B and the boys are safe? Rosie? They don't have any protection up there."

"Just the six of us know they're up there. You, Jazz and Ali, Boomer, and Tank are the only ones I've told."

"No one else knows where they are?"

I shake my head as I lean forward, resting my arms on my bent knees. "No. A few of the guys probably suspect they're gone, but I never said where they went."

"Carl hasn't asked about Seth?"

I chuckle without humor. "The son of a bitch hasn't been by since the night of the shooting. He stopped by to see Sam but didn't stick around very long. He's too worried about his next paycheck these days."

We sit in silence. I run through all the possibilities I can think of, and every time I come up with the same result.

Esme is the only one close to me who had anything to gain by hurting Bella.

"You know I've got your back with whatever goes down," Mac says, interrupting my thoughts. "And when it's all over, we've got a road trip to plan." He turns to face me with a giant grin. "Maybe we can spend a day or two in Vegas on the way up there."

I grin and shake my head. "You're an idiot sometimes, you know that?"

He hops to his feet and holds out a hand. "Come on. You need to man up and make that phone call. And then we can go get something to eat. Carl and the others should be back from Barstow late tonight, and I want to be here to see how it went."

I take his hand and let him pull me up. "Yeah. I'll meet you out there in a bit."

Mac makes his exit and I'm once again left alone. I sit on the edge of my bed and pull out my phone, tapping on Bella's name and waiting for it to ring.

It's late afternoon on a Saturday, so I'm hoping she's home, or at the very least able to talk for a few minutes. My anxiety goes up a notch with every ring, and when she finally answers, my heart is beating in my throat.

"_Hello?_"

"Hey, baby."

"_Hey_," she says softly.

"Do you have time to talk?"

"_Yeah, just give me a second_." She tells Sam she's stepping outside, and after I hear the sound of the door closing, she comes back on. "_What's up?_"

"I wanted you to know we took care of things last night."

"_Took care ... you mean_—"

"Yeah, it's done."

"_Oh, Edward_." Her voice cracks, and I when I close my eyes, I can see her crying. "_I can't_ ..." She sniffs and her voice lowers to a whisper. "_It's really over? You're coming to Seattle now?_"

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Not yet," I whisper.

The silence that follows is heavy, thick with tension, and I'd give anything to see her face, to know what she's thinking.

When she speaks, there's hurt in her voice ... along with a little bitterness. "_Why not?_"

"Because Caius didn't come after you and the boys on his own." I pause, gathering my thoughts, and finally decide to just be up front with her. "He said someone paid him ... and he said it was someone I knew."

"_So, it was a hit?_"

"Basically." I lean forward and rest my elbow on my knee, rubbing my face with my free hand. "And I've been thinking about this shit since last night. Bella, I need you to tell me everything you can remember from the conversation you had with Esme the day of Rooster's funeral."

"_Esme? You think ... Edward, do you really think your mother's capable of_—"

"I do. She's got the means and the motive, which is why I need to find her. So, I need you to tell me what she said to you."

She's quiet for a long time. It's been a while since she last talked to Esme, so I don't expect her to remember every detail of their conversation. But what she does remember is enough. "_She asked me to help her get back into your good graces. She wanted you and Carl to forgive her. She seemed to think I had the power to change your minds. But when I told her she must be crazy, she _..."

"She what?

"_She told me I'd regret not helping her_." Silence fills the air between us, and when she speaks again, her voice is hushed. "_Edward, do you really think she'd have her own grandson shot at? I know she doesn't really care about Sam, but Seth was with me. Why would she risk him being hurt?_"

"Honestly, I think Caius just took his shot and either didn't know the kids were with you or didn't fucking care. Either way, she has some questions to answer when I find her."

"_And you're not coming here until you do._" It's a statement, not a question, and her flat tone makes another piece of me die inside.

"Bella, I need to—"

"_Yeah, I know._" She laughs, but it's empty ... hollow. "_You need to go play hero. It's exactly what Masen did, and he's dead because of it._"

"Look, if what I think is true, she's not going to kill me. What she would do—like the psycho she is—is come find us in Washington. I can't take that risk. She needs to answer for what she's done. All I need is a little more time."

"_Time_," she scoffs. "_All I've given you is time_."

"I know," I whisper. "And I'm asking for a little more."

"_I'm not sure how much more I can give you_."

I rub at my chest. The bruise where Caius took a shot at me is aching, but it doesn't hurt nearly as much as the implications of what she's saying. "We both know I can't make you any promises. I won't do that to you when we both know I may not be able to keep them. You deserve better than that. But I will say this; I'm doing everything in my power to make sure when this is all over, it's done. I'm tired of being chased by ghosts and shadows. I want you and the boys to be safe. I don't want to worry about any lingering threats. When I do get my ass up there, it'll be for good. All I need is time to make that happen. Please tell me you're not giving up on me, Bella."

"_I'm not. I just_ ..." Her exhale is long, and I can picture her closing her eyes as she calms down. "_If it was your mother ... Edward, what are you going to do when you find her? You can't tell me you're going to_—"

"I honestly don't know what I'm going to do. Maybe talk her into turning herself in."

"_She made Mase's life miserable for as long as I can remember, before that even._" Her voice lowers to a whisper. "_She needs to pay_."

"She will."

"_She_—" She chokes on a sob, and I listen while she collects herself. "_She's done so much to hurt me. My son was almost killed, Edward_." Bella chuckles and takes a deep breath before blowing it out. "_Part of me wants to see her dead, but what does that say about me?_"

"It says you're human."

"_Just promise me you'll end it. Tell me when this is all over, we'll never have to look over our shoulders and worry that someone might try to hurt one of us again."_

* * *

Mac and I split a pizza and watch a baseball game while we wait for Pop, Hawk, and Tracker to get back. While we wait, a few of the guys show.

"They must be as curious as we are about how it went," Mac murmurs as he watches Buzz and Trigger hover in the kitchen.

"They probably want to see how much cash this new buyer put out." I meet Mac's eyes. "Pop was pretty secretive about the deal he made."

Less than an hour later, we have our answer.

Tracker comes through the door wearing a wide smile and carrying a very large duffel bag. "We're home, boys, and you're gonna love this."

Mac and I wait a while, allowing Pop's favored few to check out the haul in the chapel before we join them. And when we do, my eyes nearly bug out of my head.

"Holy shit." The pile of stacked bills on the table is more than I'm used to seeing after a run. "How much cash is that?"

"A quarter mil. And the best part is the Barstow contact gave us the name of another guy who wants to do business with us," Tracker says, a huge grin on his face. "This will look like a drop in the bucket compared to the next job." He looks my way. "We set up an impromptu meeting with him on our way home, and he wants a fucking truckload. We're talking over two million bucks, E. We could all clear more than this ... _each_," he says, motioning to the pile of money on the table.

Pop comes in behind me, silently walking past me and toward the table, snatching a stack of bills for himself. "Be sure to get Hawk his share," he says to Tracker.

"What's this about a new contact? Don't you think it should go to a vote before you go arranging a meeting with a new buyer? And the way Tracker is talking, you already made a deal with this guy."

Pop sits down in his seat at the head of the table. "It'll go to a vote, and it'll pass."

"You're pretty confident."

He waves a hand to the money on the table. "This will speak for itself. In fact, since you and Mac are already here, I've called everybody in for an emergency meeting. The faster we get this set up the better. The buyer said he'd throw in a bonus if we could get it done before the end of the month. And I can't imagine any of my guys will turn down a payday like this."

I huff and cross my arms, cracking a condescending grin. "Sounds like you have it all figured out."

He leans back in his chair, resting his feet on the edge of the table as he lights a cigar. "For once, I do. A few more jobs like this and none of my guys will ever have to worry about their retirement."

"Your guys?" I scoff. "For someone who was spouting so much bullshit about priorities and being in this club, you're sure quick to dismiss half of us."

"Hey, you're welcome to come along on this one. There'll be more than enough to go around. But I didn't think you'd changed your mind."

"No. I still think this is bullshit. We both know this is the wrong move for the club, and I don't want any part of it."

He lowers his voice. "Then why the hell are you still here?"

"Who said I wasn't looking at my options?"

I turn to leave the chapel, but Pop calls out. "Where were you and your little merry band of misfits off to last night with one of my cars?"

I turn to face him. "I got a tip and followed up on it."

"A tip?" He moves his feet to the floor and leans forward.

"Caius Volturi won't be a problem anymore."

He raises a brow. "He's dead?"

"Baked coyote food by now, I'm sure."

He pauses, his expression contemplative. "Good," he finally says. "It's about time that son of a bitch turned up. I'm glad it won't be hanging over our heads anymore."

"No thanks to you."

He narrows his eyes at me in warning. "Watch it, kid."

"I'm getting a little tired of watching what I say. Besides, I think I have a right to be a little pissed."

"Pissed? Maybe. But all that shit is done. We need to put it behind us."

I stare at the money on the table and think about what it represents. Over the last year, Pop has made decisions based on money, on greed, on things this club has never stood for. Yeah, we've traded weapons. We've supplied arms to a cartel and made a few bucks, but it was in exchange for keeping shit out of our town.

What he's asking the club to do now isn't to keep shit out of our town. And in a moment of clarity, I realize I have the power to put it to a stop.

"Yeah," I say, looking up at him, "I'm ready to put it behind me."

* * *

"So, what's the plan?" Trigger asks from the other end of the table.

Pop leans forward and laces his fingers together on the tabletop. "We make the run to Albuquerque for the hardware. Our supplier said it should only take him a few days to get it all in order. Then we leave the shipment in the warehouse, let things cool off for a few days, maybe a week, before we deliver to the new buyer. When it's all said and done, we should pocket close to two million."

I grit my teeth as the rest of the guys go fucking nuts at the prospect of such a huge payout.

"I don't like it," I say, my arms crossed over my chest.

"Then don't vote for it," Tracker snaps back at me.

I sit forward and splay my hands on the table. "Do you not realize what you're doing? What you're risking with this new deal?"

"Like I've said before," Pop interrupts, his eyes focused on me, "no reward is without risk. And I'm willing to take a few for this. It's too big an opportunity to pass up."

My stomach turns as I watch my club brothers vote, one by one, on taking on the new customer. And just like every other vote lately, it passes with a slim majority. But I'm not surprised.

I watch as Pop's guys practically jizz all over the pile of money and completely lose their shit over the prospect of an even bigger payday. I resolve to put an end to my father's ideas about the future of this club.

I have other plans for Carlisle Cullen.

* * *

**A/N: How are we feeling about Edward's choice to stay and "fix" everything? What about Bella's reaction? What plan do you think Edward has? ****I'd love to hear your thoughts! **

**There's a Holiday edition of our A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Images contest happening right now! It's an image contest with a 50 word limit (we want those pretty pictures!), so you'll find the details on Facebook and Instagram. The deadline is this Sunday, 12/13 at midnight, so hurry and get those entries to us! All entries will post on 12/14. **

**Only three chapters and an epilogue to go! I'm already sad about this one being over and it's not even marked complete yet. :( **

**The best way to stay up to date with what I'm up to, and what my posting schedule is, check out my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I'd love if you all could join us. I'm also on Twitter at CSunshine1220 with teaser pics. **

"**See" you next week! **

**Be kind.  
****Stay safe.  
****Stay well.**

**Lots of love  
****~Sunshine **


End file.
